


Soulbound

by octopuppy



Series: Soulbound [4]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Angst, Bisexual Character, Bisexual Link, Bisexual Male Character, F/M, Oral Sex, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Zelda's storyline gets sad let me warn you now, onesided malink, sex as a coping mechanism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-22
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2020-12-28 02:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 45,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21128999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopuppy/pseuds/octopuppy
Summary: Link is alone in retaining his memories of Ganon's rise and defeat. He attempts to live a normal life after being returned to his rightful time, but his journey changed him irreparably.There is only one person who might understand, but it's not his place to remind her.





	1. Chapter 1

Being a hero was the most rewarding work Link had ever done. At least, at the time it was. When he saved someone and they remembered enough to recognize and thank him instead of just stare at him with a crinkled expression as he approached. When they defeated Ganon and saved Hyrule, Zelda had returned him to his childhood. He wasn’t prepared to face a normal life after what he’d seen. He would never hold it against her, she thought she was doing a good thing. But a boy with no clan had very little chance in Hyrule’s social network. 

Link eventually was forced to succumb to a civilian lifestyle. He trained with his sword often, but did so alone. The only real way he would have been able to swing a sword in Central Hyrule at 17 is if he were a squire to a knight, which he refused to do. He had done enough for Hyrule for two lifetimes. He still donned a green tunic with a belt, darker than the shade he wore the last time he was around this age. He also wore his signature hat; strange as it may seem, he felt like the long kokiri-style hat served as an anchor for his identity. When people knew him before, it was by far his most noticeable feature. He supposed it was unhealthy to be holding onto his past so tightly, but it made him feel better. 

Then again, it wasn’t even that he was holding onto his past; his past had a vice grip on him. Sleep didn’t come easily, and when it did, he usually awoke in a pool of cold sweat with his heart beating out of his chest, mind awash with memories. On the rare occasion he slept peacefully, he was either too exhausted to dream, or dreamt of her. A handful of times those dreams involved Sheik, which, he supposed, technically counted.

Although it seemed counterintuitive, the fact that he had retained his gear when he was sent back in time somewhat comforted him. It reassured that he was not, in fact, hallucinating when he remembered his many, many trials. All of his items were held within a small stone which he could channel a small amount of magic into to summon whatever he needed. Navi had called it the ‘time stone.’ Link thought its name was a little on-the-nose, but hadn’t argued. It was an incredibly rare and ancient magical tool that was bestowed upon him by deities of the temple of time.

It then stood to reason that he still possessed the golden gauntlets he had found in Ganon’s Castle before their fated battle; however, he hardly wore them. Aesthetically, they were a little gaudy for his tastes, (they were made of solid gold and encrusted with rubies); not that he was worried about any thief that came his way, but the less attention the better. Instead, he opted for simple leather gauntlets that matched his worn work boots.

Besides, the leather gloves were better suited for protecting against blisters that would come with the heavy use of a shovel or pitchfork, which is what Link was occupied with these days. He had been officially hired by Talon at Lon Lon Ranch a few months ago and was helping take care of the horses and cows, muck stalls, and other menial manual labor jobs. Talon had one daughter Malon, who did most of the hard work before Link had arrived. She was more than thankful to have a hand, and she seemed especially thankful that it was him.

They had been friends as children; in fact, Malon was the one who gave Link his horse. That was another perk of staying at the ranch. Epona was safe here, unlike when she was with him on the road. Wolves, coyotes, and monsters roamed the wilderness. The warm, secure barn was by far the best place for her.

Link brushed Malon’s horse Romani, making small circles on the horse’s side. He had just finished polishing her saddle as well as Talon’s. Just a small way of thanking them, he supposed. Talon was providing him with a room and a small amount of money each week for the work he was doing, which was generous considering Link wasn’t paying any sort of fee for staying. Of course, the ‘room’ provided was in a storage room across the ranch from their house and his ‘bed’ was composed of bales of hay with blankets stacked on top. Still, it was more than he could have asked for.

He heard the heavy barn door open slightly, then close. He turned to find Malon sneaking up with something hidden behind her back, looking mischievous. Her expression quickly melted into something else when she saw her freshly polished saddle and clean, contented horse.

“Oh, Link, that was so nice of you! You didn’t have to do that for me.” Her bright smile caused him to automatically return one.

“Just a thank you,” he replied, blushing only slightly. Being the center of attention never was something he handled particularly well.

“Well, let me say thank you for that thank you!”   
She pulled a bottle of moonshine out from behind her back.   
“I found it behind a trunk in my dad’s room. I think he hid it from himself and forgot about it.” 

Talon did have a small issue with drinking. That’s even how Link met him, Talon had fallen asleep on his milk delivery to the castle because he emptied his flask on the way there. Luckily, Link was there to wake him, but it was no easy feat.

“What do you say?” She swished the half-empty bottle in front of his face. He contemplated for just a moment.

“I say let’s go somewhere your dad won’t find us if we have too much of it,” he stated, thinking of Talon’s penchant for falling asleep almost anywhere. Malon let out a whoop and threw her arm around his shoulder, startling him somewhat.

“Let’s go back to your space! No one will barge in there.” He couldn’t argue with that. They crossed the field in the dark, walking alongside the fence on the horse racing track. Link watched Malon speak animatedly about the intricacies of horse taming and raising, relieved to know he had gotten most of it right by Epona. His smile evolved to a grin as she spoke. Her brashness was a good foil to his reservedness, yet he was never annoyed, just entertained.

When they entered his room, he hurried to light a small gas lantern in the corner. It was the only light he had and cast only the light of a small flame, but considering there were only two small windows high above them in the place, it was necessary.

Malon came in and sat down heavily on his hay bed with a bark of laughter.

“High class living, huh? Good thing my dad’s not charging you anything for it. It’s pretty dreary in here.” Now that they were finally safely indoors, she uncorked the bottle and took a drink. She made a pained face and coughed a little, holding it out to him while she tried to collect herself. He took it from her and sat on the bed as well, but with a good deal of space in between them.

He took a deep breath and let it out before he took a swig. It was awful. Absolutely terrible, and it burned. He swallowed all of it, but he wasn’t sure how. He coughed deeply and groaned, handing it back to her shaking his head.

“Oh, don’t tap out now!” Malon teased. “I bet I could outdrink you.” She took another drink, suffering noticeably less that time.

“You already have,” Link rasped, his eyes still watering. He paused for a beat and snatched it back out of her hands. Although he knew that she was just taunting him, he was never one to turn down a challenge. 

~~~~~

Soon, the bottle was empty, and Link felt triumphant as ever.

“I definitely outdrank you,” Link declared. The volume of his voice was a dead giveaway on his sobriety: he never spoke at an average speaking level unless he was piss drunk.

“Okay, sure,” Malon scoffed, her voice dripping in sarcasm. “We did, like, half and half, you idiot.” A brief silence fell over them until it was broken by Malon gasping dramatically.

“You know… We’ve known each other for years but I feel like I know almost nothing about you. You gotta have all sorts of stories and secrets, fairy boy,” she teased, rehashing an old nickname. She stared right at him with a wicked grin. “Have you heard of the classic game truth or dare?” He shook his head. “Well, you go first. Truth or dare?” She scooted closer to him on the bed, her green eyes shining in what little light there was in his room.

“Truth,” he replied without thinking.

“Okay…” She thought for a moment, furrowing her brow and pressing a pointer finger to her chin for emphasis. “What is… the creepiest thing you’ve ever seen?” She probably meant to open the door to some kind of personal conversation, maybe about catching a glimpse of a Stalchild in Hyrule Field at night, but the truth wasn’t a conversation anyone could handle, especially not him. He looked away, noticeably stiffening. 

Link’s mind raced with images of disembodied hands floating around him, a huge glowing red eye staring into his through the shadows; the mottled monstrosity of a creature at the bottom of a well slowly creeping toward him as rotting hands grasped at his ankles; a massive dragon of flames that consumed a dear friend. He cleared his throat.

“Dare. I meant, dare,” His voice was quiet again. His head was spinning now, and he didn’t think it was just because of the alcohol. Malon was so far gone she hardly noticed his tone shift. She chuckled slightly, biting her lip.

“Okay.” When she spoke, her voice was husky. He looked at her in confusion, his mind hazy and his stomach burning. She closed the gap between them before he knew what was happening. He was sitting on the bed, back against the wall; she straddled him quite smoothly for how drunk she was.

“I dare you to kiss me.” Her soft lips were slightly parted and her breath smelled like liquor. He became keenly aware of her position on his lap. He shifted uncomfortably, but did not move her away.

“Malon, I…” He trailed off, “I can’t do anything serious.” He was quiet again as usual, but she was close enough to hear. She leaned in, her lips lightly touching the shell of his long ear.

“Nothing’s serious, we’re having fun.” She reassured him, slurring only slightly; she slowly tugged off his hat and laced her fingers in his hair. The contact made him blush like mad. He wasn’t used to touching anyone besides Epona, and she was just a horse. He’d been so lonely for so long, and the feel of another quickly became overwhelming. He sucked in a slow, deep breath to try and calm himself before speaking.

“Nothing serious,” Link repeated before finally letting his drunkenness and teenage hormones take over. He grabbed her waist gently at first, then with more confidence. He pressed his lips to hers chastely, but she quickly took control. She deepened the kiss and began moving against him lightly, sending electricity down his spine. It didn’t take long for him to catch up as he ground his hips into her. Malon responded with a sharp gasp and a moan, which encouraged him further. One hand went upward to tangle in her long red hair, the other gripped one of her thick thighs. She stood to undo his belt and pulled his tunic off over his head. He slid off his pants, gloves, and kicked off his boots, turning to toss them out of the way onto an adjacent pile of hay. When he turned back around, he discovered she had already taken off her dress and was laying on the bed in the dim light; her vibrant green eyes roamed his muscular body appreciatively. He, however, hardly noticed anything besides the space between them. 

Link lay down beside her, pulling her close. They kissed again as he covered their bare bodies with a blanket. She was making soft sounds as he kissed her neck and gently cupped one of her large breasts. He pulled back for a moment, gazing at her in what little light there was. Malon was beautiful, but for some reason, it felt wrong. He quenched those feelings, closing his eyes tightly and aggressively kissing her. She gave a low laugh when he did, digging her blunt nails into his back. He growled slightly, roughly grinding against her in response.

“Don’t tease me.” She gasped in his ear. He moved his hand between her legs, mostly unfamiliar with the process, but drunk enough to try. He rubbed her slowly, surprised and a little perturbed at how slick his fingers became as she moaned against his ear, her volume escalating as his rough digits brought her closer to the edge. 

“Link…” She pleaded; he withdrew his hand and positioned himself above her. He firmly grasped her hips, angling them slightly towards himself. He pressed against her, a low moan escaping his lips as her wetness coated his tip. She shivered underneath him. He gently thrust into her, gasps emerging from both of them; he assumed she had never done anything like this before either, and, judging by her reaction, he was correct. 

Still, Malon’s boldness continued to surprise him. She greedily grabbed his waist, moving herself against him, too impatient to wait any longer. Her arousal made the process remarkably easy. Link quickly caught up with her rhythm, their ragged breaths echoing off the stone walls. It was good, too good. But, still, something wasn’t right.

Even in the dark, his eyes were screwed shut. He imagined silky hair the color of flax instead of the coarse auburn his fingers were currently tangled in. Deep cerulean eyes instead of emerald green. A gentle tone like tinkling glass instead of the husky voice coming from below him. Hands so soft you’d imagine they’ve never lifted a thing, not the calloused fingers raking down his back.

Someone who smelled of rain and jasmine, not fresh earth and cotton.

Someone he wasn’t sure he’d ever meet again.


	2. Chapter 2

Link awoke with a massive headache long after the sun had come up. He rolled out of bed onto all fours, quietly groaning as he found his canteen near his boots and pants. He drank deeply from it, then curled up on the ground using the pile of clothes as a pillow. He jerked to his feet just seconds later, grabbed a nearby bucket and immediately vomited all of the water he had just ingested. He sat down on the floor carefully, put the bucket on the floor next to him, and scooted it as far as he could without moving from his sitting position. When the bucket was a reasonable distance away, he lay down again on his side. He lay there for a few minutes, let out one last extended whimper, then slowly got to his feet. 

Link grabbed his canteen again, then shuffled over to his bed, where he plopped down onto a very stiff spot on the blanket. He leapt back to his feet, taken aback. He looked closer and saw a large stain of a very recognizable material had covered much of one of his darkest quilts. Naturally. 

He heaved a heavy sigh, pulling it out of the pile he slept in. He focused on what he could remember as he balled up the offending piece of fabric. Last night, he polished the saddles and brushed Romani. Then, Malon came in with the moonshine. Oh shit, the moonshine. Link froze, quilt still in hand. All of a sudden, he felt sick for an entirely different reason.

He threw the blanket to the floor in disgust. He got ready at a snail’s pace, slowly crossing the room to grab his boots, gloves, and pants again, then dragged himself over to his bed to put them on, taking small sips of water the whole way. Not only did he still have a wretched headache, he definitely wasn’t in any hurry to see Talon (as he overslept for work) or Malon at this point. He noticed his tunic was on the floor next to the hay bales and snatched it up quickly and tried not to think about how if he had taken it off, he never would have dropped it there. He fastened his belt, took a deep breath, then opened the door.

If Link didn’t know better, he would have sworn the sunlight physically slapped him the instant he opened the door. He could have screamed. It was a good thing he didn’t, because Talon was right outside his door on the back of his Appaloosa Talon Jr.. At one point, Link had conferred with Malon and, yes, Talon Jr. was named while Talon Sr. was rip roaringly wasted.

Link tried his best to shield his eyes from the sun as Talon called out to him,

“Boy! What are you doing out of bed? Malon told me you were sick as a dog last night! Don’t worry about the ranch, ya hear? Just rest up,” Talon seemed, at times, a walking caricature.

“Yes, sir,” Link croaked. He could have cried. Satisfied, Talon rode off on Talon Jr. to the center of the track to practice jumping hurdles. Link thought for a moment about how he should do more exercises with Epona, but was suddenly hit by a secondary wave of nausea. He shuddered, turning back into his still open doorway.

He took one of his boots and propped his door ajar, hoping to get at least a little bit of sunlight. There was a reason besides his work that he didn’t stay in his room during the day; it was hardly brighter than it was at night. He lay down heavily in his bed. Luckily, the canteen was still within arm’s reach. He tossed his gloves and his belt to his side and sat up, taking slow sips of water. He finished the canteen and sat it down beside him.

Link finally lay his head down and shut his eyes, exhaling deeply. He opened his eyes what seemed like moments later but it was dusk; the low rays of the sunset shone through the crack in his door. He sat up carefully, already feeling infinitely better than he had that morning. He had a mild headache that was entirely bearable. He stood and spied the bucket across the room. He grabbed it with distaste, opening his door and rounding the corner to pour it out. 

Link took a moment to thank the Goddesses that the spigot was so closeby. He pumped the spigot, rinsed the bucket thoroughly (thankfully it had just been regurgitated water), then filled it up. He dragged it inside his room, retrieved a clean washcloth and scrubbed himself more thoroughly than he ever had in his life. Afterward, he gathered his clothes and washed them as well. He really only had one outfit, which depressed him to think about. Besides his standard green getup, he had one plain linen shirt and a pair of plain linen pants. He was far from a rich man.

Instead of sitting in the corner of his room in the nude like some kind of animal, Link opted to change into the full linen suit. Although unflattering, he didn’t have much of an choice. He threw the garments on, sighed lightly to himself, and walked outside. He took one step into the dimming light and Epona neighed at him from the other side of the open fence that encircled the center of the track. He laughed aloud.

“Sorry, Epona,” he muttered under his breath, hustling over to the main gate to meet her. Then, someone started singing. He stopped and listened. He’d first heard this song years ago. Link took a deep breath and kept walking. He had lost sight of Epona for a second but as he got closer realized she was next to Malon. He groaned. Of course; she had even named the tune Epona’s song.

He was close enough to see that her back was to him. She had a palm pressed to Epona’s nose, singing to her sweetly. Epona saw him approach and pulled back, cantering for a moment to greet him. Malon stopped singing. She turned to face him, a small smirk on her face.

“Nice clothes, you look good. Do you feel better?”

He had no idea how to respond. At least her compliment sounded honest. She laughed a bit, then continued,

“Also, I concede. You definitely outdrank me.” Mischief danced in her emerald eyes.

At that, a bright blush crept all the way to the tips of his ears. She laughed harder. She wiped tears away as she walked up to him and placed both hands on his chest. 

“W-wait,” Link stuttered, lifting his hands. “I think I said--”

“Yes, yes. You said ‘nothing serious,’” Malon made a face at that, but Link nodded curtly. “I know, I know,” she groaned exasperatedly. “But we’re here together now, and we should enjoy it, right? Just relax.”

“Okay,” he affirmed hesitantly. He reluctantly placed his hands at her waist and she hummed happily as she threw her arms around his neck. After a moment she pulled back and beamed at him. She had such a vibrant smile that, as usual, he couldn’t help but return it. Still, something in his chest tightened uncomfortably as he smiled back. She kissed him and he pushed the feeling away.


	3. Chapter 3

Over the next year and a half, Link became an indispensable part of Lon Lon Ranch. He cared for their prize cows and horses and helped with deliveries, not to mention the vast amount of dirty work done without complaint. He had amassed a small collection of undershirts and pants to wear under his signature green tunic. Epona was nearly fully grown, as was he. At 19, he felt strangely familiar with his still evolving body. 

In the past 18 months, Link and Malon found their way into Link’s bed more than a few times. Sometimes she would stay the night; they lay with their limbs entwined, her soft curves complementing his tough, lean muscles. His hand had a place at the small of her back, holding her as though his life depended on it. He never woke up screaming when she stayed with him. Their relationship had developed beyond a friendship, although he wasn’t comfortable admitting it.

This particular evening, Talon had called Link into his home. Link was slightly perturbed, as most business Talon conducted was outside, fly undone, bottle in hand. Link had just returned from Hyrule Castle Town with the flour Malon requested. He set the bag down, took Epona’s gear off, brushed her quickly, then ushered her into her stall. He pat her neck as a goodbye and exited the barn. He scooped up the bag of flour and approached the door to Talon’s home. A pit formed in his stomach that he chose to ignore. He took a deep breath and knocked twice. 

“Come in!” Talon’s voice boomed through the door. Link sighed slightly and pushed it open.

“Hey, Talon,” Link spoke as loud as he thought he reasonably could. “What should I do with this flour?” He asked. 

“Boy, I swear I can never hear ya,” Talon was sitting alone at a large table near the center of the room. He chuckled, gesturing at the seat across from him. “Come in, sit down.”

Link, not wanting to repeat his question, brought it with him. He sat in the chair and set the bag of flour next to him on the table without a word. Talon didn’t acknowledge it either. It was quiet between them for an uncomfortable amount of time. There were sounds of someone in the kitchen, likely Malon. Link eventually opened his mouth to speak.

“BOY,” Talon bellowed.

Link shut his mouth.

“I called you here because I have a proposition for ya.” Link blinked at him curiously. Talon did not continue.

“What kind of pro--”

“This proposition,” Talon interjected, “would include you gettin’ a good share of our profits and a place on this land to build a home of your own.”

Link’s mouth went dry. Oh. Oh, no.

“Now, I know you’re close with my daughter, Malon. We’ve already done most of the work. If for no other reason, this would simplify the legality of it all,” Talon let out a hoarse bark of laughter, then coughed, beating a fist against his chest. Too many cigarillos in the evening, Link surmised. 

“So, Link.” Talon folded his hands on the table in front of him once he recovered. “Malon and I spoke and she agreed to lettin’ me offer you her hand. What do ya think?” 

There was a pregnant silence. Link stared at him dumbly, eventually clearing his throat.

“I need some time to consider it. Thank you, Talon. You’re a good man.” His voice was remarkably steady despite the intense panic boiling over internally. He stood up, and at that moment, Malon came into the room holding a fresh basket of rolls. It seemed Talon had preemptively called for a country style celebration dinner. As she approached the table with a shy smile, Link got to his feet and moved swiftly towards the door. The smile quickly dropped off her face.

“I brought you the flour you asked for,” he gestured towards the bag on the table, avoiding her eye. “I’m sorry, I need to take a walk.” He left as quickly as he could. He was nearly halfway to his room across the property when he heard Talon’s front door open then slam behind him.

“Wait!” Malon cried out to him, but he didn’t slow down. She ran to catch up, grabbing one of his sleeves.

“Please, wait. What’s wrong?” She cupped his face to catch his gaze, but his pale blue eyes were distant and unfocused. After a moment, he looked at her.

“Malon, I can’t. I told you.” His voice was low and weak. He couldn’t seem to catch his breath. She withdrew her hand. All of this was so wrong. Tears welled up in her forest green eyes, threatening to overflow.

“_Still?_ After all this time?” She laughed incredulously, but there was no humor in it. “Why? Is it me?” Tears then flowed freely down her face.

“No, of course no--”

“Is it someone else?” She cut him off abruptly.

A hard lump formed in his throat. It took some time before he was able to speak.

“No,” he finally replied, barely audible. The look on her face told him she didn’t believe it.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Link.” Malon wiped the tears from her cheek roughly. “Epona can stay here as long as she needs to. But you have to leave. Don’t waste any more of my time.”

She spat out the last sentence in such a way that he knew she wanted a response. She wanted him to come to his senses, to beg and plead for her to give him another chance so that they could start their lives together anew. Part of him wanted to as well. But he knew it would be a lie. More than anything, he knew she deserved more.

He just nodded. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything else. 

She turned her back to him and went back inside her father’s house, leaving Link alone in the gloom of the setting sun.


	4. Chapter 4

The incident at Lon Lon Ranch had sent Link reeling. Not only was he back to camping in fields, he was forced to come face to face with the realization that he was essentially obsessed with someone that he had technically only spoken to once. Luckily for him, it was late summer and it would be months before the first frost over Hyrule Field, giving him plenty of time to find a more permanent place to stay.

He traveled extensively looking for odd jobs, mostly on foot but would occasionally hitch a ride from a caravan on the rare occasion he’d cross paths with one. Link knew for a fact he wasn’t financially stable enough to care for Epona properly so his muscles paid the price. He would be forever thankful to Malon for caring for his horse. It was a good thing she loved animals much more than she could ever hate him.

He bit his lip slightly thinking of their parting. It had been two weeks already and he still felt just as horrible as he did the first night. He had been traveling northeast practically since the moment it happened. He’d heard of a distant region named Akkala, and what was more important, he’d heard it was largely uninhabited. He could get a fresh start, and there was likely no shortage of manual labor jobs available there. 

Link took a deep breath of the cool evening air, looking up at the stars that shone so brightly that even at night it was hardly dark. It’s true that he felt terrible about what happened with Malon, but he never lied to her. He only promised her the present. Then again, he mused, it was glaringly obvious she had hope regardless. He should have said more in the beginning. Or anytime in the little over a year he had spent at the ranch.

Link slid his hands behind the straps of his rucksack as he trudged along the path, curling into himself a bit as he internally cringed. Admittedly, he did not handle the situation well. But he never meant for it to end like it did. He perked up a bit at the sight of a tavern in the distance. Now with a target in sight, he picked up his pace slightly.

To be fair, there was a time when he thought he might have loved her. Her red hair and green eyes were gorgeous, not to mention the body toned by years of manual labor. She never failed to make him laugh and he had always found her quite interesting. But as it turns out, her aesthetic appeal was superficial, and while he truly did enjoy spending time with her, that didn’t equate to love. Not the kind of love she was asking of him.

As for the sex… He felt sick when he thought of that side of their relationship. Now that it was over he could admit that he rarely noticed her when they were embracing. He noticed the warmth of her body and the softness of her touches against his burning skin and the need for him she communicated bodily but he didn’t notice Malon. And, worst of all, when he did find himself thinking of someone, it wasn’t her. 

The tavern wasn’t far now. He was pulled from his thoughts as he saw someone tear out of the door, hop on a horse, and ride away as fast as possible. Link stopped in his tracks and moved out of the road as the speeding equine passed him. Bewildered, he continued towards the building. It became clearer what could have happened as he neared it; there seemed to be a bar fight or other kind of ruckus going on inside. Link just rolled his eyes. He was hoping for an affordable cup of stew and a tall ale before finding a nice patch of grass to sleep in for the night but it seemed as though life had other plans.

When he finally reached the door, he stopped for just a moment to collect himself. He still heard a great deal of yelling. He groaned slightly before forcing himself through the saloon style door. No one paid him any mind, as they were all watching in horror as a massive man reached across the bar, picked up the owner of the tavern and threw him against the wall. The owner’s body crumpled and he fell to the ground; his wife screamed in terror and ran over to help as the giant laughed cruelly.

A large hand extended towards a bulletin board covered in wanted posters and tore off a perfect likeness of the aggressor. 

“Good thing you have these posters to help track down criminals. Otherwise something bad might happen to you,” the giant man mocked as he tore the poster carefully in half. He then turned towards the owner’s teenaged daughter who had ducked behind a table when the conflict started.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten about you, missy…” his voice was dark, laced with intent. 

To Link’s dismay, the small crowd of drinking men that were gathered in front of her parted immediately. That was when he sprang to action, righteously furious.

“Hey,” he barked forcefully, surprising the giant, who paused to peer down at him. Link set his heavy rucksack to the side and stared pointedly back, then turned to the owner’s wife.

“That person that left a bit ago. Did they go to get the guards?” She nodded silently in response, mouth agape. The owner seemed to be unconscious.

Link looked back at the massive man, expression neutral as he slowly approached the table the man was looming over. He sneered at Link, resting his weight on a huge, flat hand against the table’s surface.

“Kid, I’ll give you a fair warning. Get the fuck out of here before I kill you,” the giant stated matter-of-factly, a smug look painting his maw. Link just looked at him coolly for a moment before smiling slightly and drawing his gilded blade. 

“What are you gonna do with that little knife?” The man guffawed aloud, looking around at the few people that remained nearby as if for validation, “do you know who I am?”

The man brought back his tremendous arm and swung it at Link’s head, presumably to smash it like a pumpkin. His size was a detriment to his speed, and all Link had to do was duck slightly to dodge his attack. Link let out a small laugh of his own as he drove the razor sharp gilded blade through the back of a massive hand, pinning the criminal to the table with one swift movement. 

The man howled loudly, falling to his knees and flailing his free arm wildly. Link leaned onto his sword and put himself at eye level to the thrashing giant, setting his jaw.

“I have no idea who you are,” Link spat at him, “and it’s a short sword, you stupid asshole.”

Just then, a troupe of guards burst through the doors wielding spears. They lowered their weapons upon discovering the scene.

“This boy apprehended Gertus the Brute single handedly?” One guard whispered urgently to another. So that was his name. Link pulled his sword loose from the thick wood of the table, releasing Gertus’s hand as another pained wail tore from the brute’s throat. One guard swiftly wrapped Gertus’s freshly dripping wound as three others leapt on his back, chaining him without a moment’s hesitation. Link thought briefly about how the chainmail and plate armor dogpile may have been overkill, but considering how long Gertus had been on the run (“two years!” cried one of the guards) and how large the outlaw was, it was best not to take any chances.

In the midst of the ruckus, Link found a napkin and quietly wiped the blood from his sword before sheathing it and retreating from the table. The owner’s daughter finally left her hiding spot and rushed to her parents’ side, but not without looking Link up and down quite thoroughly with large eyes. Before he could think, the head of the battalion handed him a hefty sack of rupees.

“Gertus’s bounty,” the guard explained when Link gave him a strange look.

Oh. That was unexpected. He peeked into the bag and was momentarily blown away. Why had he been considering spending his life cutting down trees and building homes for a modest living when he just made thousands of rupees in one fell swoop? Link pulled himself out of his reverie for a moment and noticed the state of the tavern. He himself had destroyed a table. He approached the owner’s wife, rupees in hand. The owner was now awake and receiving first aid from one of the guards while his daughter tightly gripped his hand. Link was glad to know he would be fine. She gasped as Link handed her several silver rupees from the bag, but he shook his head.

“He destroyed your tavern and hurt your husband. Please, let me help.”

“Thank you,” the woman whispered tearfully. “Who are you?”

His mouth quirked to one side.

“Just a traveler.” 

She didn’t seem pleased with the answer but took it regardless. She cleared her throat, wiped her tears, and turned to her daughter.

“Lika, will you get some stew and ale for this... traveler? I assume he needs it after all the excitement.” 

She wasn’t wrong. 

“Yes ma’am,” Lika’s face reddened as she hopped to her feet and skittered into the back room of the pub. He sat down at one of the remaining tables and ignored the stares of the bystanders until Lika returned. She placed a heaping bowl of beef and vegetable stew in front of him along with a large tankard of ale. 

He immediately grabbed the tankard and downed half of it, then began to shovel some of the stew into his mouth before noticing that Lika was still in front of him. He glanced at her questioningly and she jumped and squeaked in response, scampering back to the kitchen with apple-red cheeks.

Anyway. Link took his time with the rest of his meal and had two more large tankards of ale before he finally stood, dropped a red rupee on the table, and pulled on his backpack. He waved goodbye to the tavern owner’s wife and exited into the moonlit night. He looked around briefly, trying to decide where to camp before he heard small, quick footsteps behind him. He turned only to find Lika standing there, eyes wide.

“Wait.” Her voice quivered slightly. Link just squinted at her in confusion.

“Yes?” 

“I wanted to thank you.” She stopped. “You know, for saving me earlier.”

“Oh. Yeah, it’s no problem.” He shuffled slightly, clearing his throat. It was really dark outside.

“Who knows what Gertus would have done if you weren’t there.”

Unfortunately, he had a pretty good idea. He hummed in response and stood quietly trying to think of an excuse to leave before she stepped closer.

“There’s not an inn for miles, you know. You should stay.”

“Where?” He asked without thinking. The ale made him a little slow. She gave him a small, shy smile and took another few steps toward him.

“You could stay with me tonight. I could thank you properly.” Lika leaned in and placed a hand on his chest gently, playing with the collar of his tunic coyly. He stared back at her.

“I’m leaving in the morning,” he stated bluntly. She looked taken aback, then laughed awkwardly.

“I know.”

Link took a moment to examine her face in the low light. She had short, light brown hair and a trail of freckles that spread across her upturned nose. Her most striking features were her high cheekbones that framed two large sapphire eyes.

His breath caught in his throat as she boldly leaned in closer, those gorgeous eyes fluttering shut. He closed his own eyes and kissed her hard, his hands finding her waist. After a time they parted and Lika led him back to the barn and up into a hayloft. He was a little too drunk to be climbing a ladder, but he managed.

He lay heavily on his back in the hay and she almost immediately pounced on him, shedding her clothing as quickly as possible. It seemed like her shyness was reserved for when she was in public or in front of her parents. His rough hands groped her chest and she moaned wantonly, obnoxiously even, but he remained mostly silent. It was dark and his head was spinning. He had already forgotten her name. She never knew his in the first place. He thought of nothing as she undid his belt and climbed on top of him.


	5. Chapter 5

Waking naked and slightly hungover beside a softly snoring Lika, Link was, for once, thankful he was such a light sleeper. He winced awkwardly, blocking the rising sun from his sore eyes as he threw on his clothes and scrambled down the hayloft ladder hastily. He all but ran out of the barn and continued following the road north. It was a gorgeous day, temperate with a light breeze, but something felt wrong. 

He straightened his spine and tried to stretch out the soreness of his back as he relayed the events of that morning. He’d woken up beside a willing (and perfectly attractive) girl and fled. That was hardly an average reaction of a young man his age. He scoffed at that thought as he admitted silently that he himself was hardly average. He shifted again in discomfort.

Why had he even stayed with Lika in the first place? She wasn’t _un_attractive, per se, but…. Although he didn’t particularly like to admit it, he was not a _huge_ fan of people overall. In general, he found them to be quite tiring. Crowds were suffocating and most conversations were painful. Those he truly found attractive were few and far between. The breeze picked up slightly and he squinted as he tried to recall her face. Then, it hit him.

“Shit.” He spoke aloud, stopping in his tracks. After a moment, he turned heel with an anxious sigh and headed right back the way he came, southwest to Hyrule. He knew he had no choice but to face what he was running from. 

Gertus’s bounty bought him shelter every few days; it was strange, but he preferred to be away from inns and the main road. If it were up to him, he would camp in the woods alone until his last breath. He wondered briefly if life as a hermit would suit him. Not likely. Being alone with his mind hadn’t been working out the smoothest lately. One can’t properly run from themselves without keeping very busy.

After weeks of traveling, the moment of reckoning was upon him. Link walked determinedly through Hyrule Castle Town just after the sun went down and just before the drawbridge was lifted. The merchants he frequented were packing up their stalls and he waved to them brusquely as he passed by.

“Hey Link, good to see you. How’s Malon?” The herb vendor called out to him from across the town square. Link took a deep breath and let it out, gritting his teeth slightly. Thanks for the reminder.

“She’s doing just fine, good to see you too, Tobi, sorry, no time to talk,” he called out over his shoulder, sounding casual but not overly so (he hoped), picking up his pace. That was not a conversation he was willing to have at the moment, or possibly ever. He turned down an alley that widened to a path in front of a large gateway that opened into the castle grounds. This back gate wasn’t nearly as secure as the front. Guards were sparse and vines covered every wall.

A guard stood in front of the massive gate, illuminated by torches. Link shied away from the light and towards a patch of ivy out of sight. He scaled it quickly praying to the goddesses that it wouldn’t detach and pulled himself over the top of the wall. He stood level with the top of the gate and could see the whole meadow stretching out to the castle walls. He could also see each individual guard holding their lanterns. He took a deep breath in and let it out, trying to slow his racing heart. It had been years since he had last trespassed in Hyrule Castle and he was 19 now, not 12. The stakes were higher and it would be harder to hide in the shadows as a nearly full sized man. Still, he felt he had no choice. He had to try and see her again.

Link sneaked across the top of the gate and into the meadow. He ducked through the tall grass and dove behind trees, making his way to the westernmost side of the front wall where he knew vines were plentiful and guards were the opposite. He stopped upon finding the vines to scan the surrounding area from behind a very expensive and perfectly maintained shrubbery. No guards, as expected. Still, he scampered up the wall as fast as he could. He exhaled sharply and vaulted it, landing lightly on his feet in soft grass on the opposite side.

Link made his way through a series of guarded hedge mazes and garden space. An impressive amount of exotic plants were grown here, he mused. He had a chance to become well acquainted with many of the species as he hid behind, and occasionally inside, them as guards passed by too closely for comfort. He considered briefly that most of these men should be fired.

Finally, he came to a long corridor that opened up into a much smaller, private courtyard. Zelda’s courtyard. There was a gate here, too, but no one had locked it. Link thanked Farore for his luck as he crossed the threshold of the gate and pulled it closed silently, locking it as he did so. The hinges were so expertly crafted and routinely oiled that they didn’t make a sound. He shook his head slightly, impressed.

He continued through the corridor until his feet hit plush grass. Link tried to slow his racing heart as he saw her. She was bathed in moonlight, laying in a bed of grass and small blue flowers while reading a large leather bound book. It looked incredibly old. It was almost too dark for her to be able to read another word. He wondered how long she’d been in that spot in the soft grass. He gingerly took another step closer and she sat up to face him.

She looked just like the day they met in the Temple of Time. Deja vu hit him hard and he couldn’t get out a word.

“It’s you,” was all she said. Her expression was uncertain, but she did not call out to the guards. In the moonlight, she was truly mesmerising. Softly curled golden locks framed a soft, elegant face; large sapphire eyes watched him closely and shapely lips were pressed into a thin line. He was never prepared for her beauty.

“Princess Zelda,” he forced out, trying to keep his desperation from seeping into his tone. “I’m sorry to come to you like this again, but I had to speak with you.” Link cautiously took another small step toward her and she rose to her feet, clutching the large book to her chest.

“I assure you no other such intruder would be awarded the same grace,” she paused, “but for some reason, I feel as though I can trust you… at least when you say you have no intention of harming me,” she said finally. He knelt in front of her, dipping his head in relief.

“Thank you, your Highness, for hearing me,” he breathed. One hand over his heart, he reached for her hand reverently as was custom when greeting Hyrulean royalty. She offered it hesitantly. She wasn’t wearing gloves. Link had spent a pathetic amount of time imagining this moment. He wondered if her skin would be as soft as he’d imagined. He thought he may faint. He held his breath lightly as his fingertips brushed the palm of her hand.

There was a blinding flash, then everything was dark.

When he came to, he was still kneeling. His ears were ringing and he couldn’t focus his vision, but he could feel hands gripping his tunic, hot tears on his neck, and he could smell jasmine and rain.

Link focused in as best as he could and slowly began to realize that Zelda was wailing softly. The book had tumbled to the ground and she had fallen to her knees before him. Without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and she quieted. Realization dawned on him and he suddenly felt even more ill.

“Princess, do you remember me?” His voice wavered. She didn’t respond. He pulled back and observed her face. Her cheeks were tear stained and she was deathly pale. Large sapphire eyes were cloudy and her rosy lips were parted slightly as she struggled to catch her breath.

“Zelda, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do this to you,” he choked out. Tears blurred the edge of his vision but at his words her eyes focused on him with a cool intensity he recognized. Her eyes were slightly red and exuded a stark resoluteness that sent a small shiver down his spine. Link just stared back, feeling infinitely small under the determination of her gaze. Soon, her breathing leveled and, after an eternity, she spoke.

“No. I would rather know.” After another moment she pulled away from him and picked the massive book off of the ground, dusting off the cover as she stood. Leave it to the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom to prioritize knowledge over her own well being. 

“Why?” Link blurted out incredulously, getting to his feet as well. He thought of Impa's words all those years ago; _would_ she be better off knowing?

“The only way to ensure that we don’t fail again is to learn from our mistakes,” Zelda said finally, facing away from him.

“Ganon was sealed with the Master Sword. We didn’t fail.”

There was silence for an uncomfortably long period before she spoke again.

“Hyrule fell. The castle, Zora’s Domain, Death Mountain, Kakariko Village. My people were slaughtered. I watched my homeland burn for seven years waiting for you.”  
Her voice held no judgment or blame. She turned to look at him over her shoulder. He noted her eyes also held no malice, but instead a complex swirl of thoughts and feelings that made his knees weak under their observation.  
“As future queen, I owe it to my people to not repeat such mistakes.”

Nausea set in. Of course, with his slumber in the sacred realm he had neglected to realize that although seven years had passed by in the blink of an eye for him, Zelda was in hiding the whole time. The desecration of Hyrule Castle Town made it easy to forget the bustling trade center it once was. He remembered footsteps echoing eerily past motionless hordes of redead and the seemingly endless ruins of homes and stalls. 

“Ganon’s evil has been sealed. Your people are safe,” Link tried again, but was met with a cool silence as Zelda turned to fully face him, massive book cradled to her chest. It was fully dark now, and only her cool eyes and high cheekbones seemed to be illuminated by the torches.

“Surely you are not foolish enough to believe with Ganon dies all evil.”

Link just looked at her dumbly.

“Most evil in the world is perpetrated by man.” She paused again.  
“But also…. Some traces of darkness remain. My father has been dismissing claims of monsters in the far reaches of our kingdom for months.” 

There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Zelda let out an even breath, eyes sliding closed wearily.

“Please,” she requested; “leave me for now. I need some time to think.”  
She turned to head inside, then paused, glancing at him over her shoulder yet again.  
“But, do come back.”

She gave him a weak smile before leaving him alone in the courtyard.


	6. Chapter 6

After a very strange yet productive meeting with the princess, Link found himself deserving of a drink. He had traveled for weeks to make it to Hyrule Castle Town again, snuck into the heart of the castle, had a very emotionally draining meeting with the woman he loved, and snuck back out without a hitch. Therefore, in celebration of being remembered by said woman and not being thrown into the dungeon for trespassing, he was going to get tanked. 

He passed through the narrow alleys of the now quiet Hyrule Castle town, making his way to the nearest tavern. Gertus’s bounty was still serving him well, especially since he hardly ever rented from inns, instead opting to sleep under the stars. It was free and the weather was still fair enough to do so. He grimaced at the thought of the coming winter, but that was a problem for then, not now. 

Link felt himself noticeably relax when the warm light of the tavern came into view. After the conversation he’d just had, he would have killed for a cool ale and a baked potato. Luckily, he wouldn’t have to, because it was mere steps away. He hustled through the doors and immediately made his way to the bar, where he all but collapsed into a barstool with a heavy sigh. After a few minutes of waiting, the barkeep turned his attention to Link.

“What can I get ya?” The man behind the bar asked, speaking so quickly that Link wasn’t sure he had even spoken Hylian before given a moment to process. The man seemed incredibly impatient, tapping his fingers swiftly and deliberately while waiting for a reply.

“Ale and a potato,” was all Link said, fulfilling the other’s silent (yet obvious) request for a speedy answer. The man responded with a curt nod, hustling away at top speed immediately. 

Strange. Yet, when Link looked around, he understood what the man’s issue was. Everyone else in the tavern was in royal guard gear, fresh off their shift. Some of them had more ornate, polished armor. Those were the guests the barkeep was paying the most attention to. Naturally. 

He waited another few minutes before the barkeep ran out of the back room with a baked potato on a plate, set it down in front of him, and ran away again to pour an ale from one of the barrels behind him. The man was tapping his fingers wildly again, this time on the barrel’s spout as he waited for the tankard to fill; it seemed he didn’t even have the patience to wait for gravity. The moment it was full, the barkeep slung the tap to the closed position and all but ran over to Link, slamming the metal tankard down on the bar in front of him and speeding away towards the officers’ table without even sparing him a glance.

The force the man put behind placing the cup in front of Link caused quite a bit of the ale to slosh out and onto his plate, thoroughly soaking the potato he hadn’t started in on yet. Link said nothing, just staring down at the sad sight in front of him morosely. He heard a bark of laughter that was too well timed to be aimed at anything else. He looked around to see a Hylian man in shiny officer’s gear maybe a decade older than him observing him mirthfully, many empty (and unspilled) tankards before him on his table. Link gazed back blandly before heaving a sigh and turning his attention back to his ale. At least he had that. Well, most of it.

He heard a chair scoot and footsteps approaching him, but he did not turn to look. He was hardly in the mood to be laughed at.

“Hey, I’m sorry friend. I didn’t mean to pile on,” the other man was still chortling. Link did not so much as react to his statement, hoping the other would take the hint and leave. He wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Truly, though, let me help you with that,” the guard said with a wink. He raised one hand to his mouth, cupping it to yell, “HEY EAGUS, WE NEED A POTATO OUT HERE!”

Link noticeably winced. The other man laughed aloud and clapped Link on the back brusquely, startling him. 

“You’re a shy one, aren’t you? Well, not to worry. I’m not,” he gave a cheer when Eagus rounded the corner hurriedly with a new potato, this one noticeably larger with more toppings. Naturally. He thought it was for an officer, after all. 

“Great, great. Now set that down in front of my new friend here. Also, take this mess away if you please,” the officer scooted the soiled potato towards Eagus, who turned bright red. So he HAD noticed. Eagus set down the new, gourmet potato and took the puddled plate without another word. He ran away again, this time Link guessed in shame. The officer sat down in the barstool beside him, much to his dismay. He stiffened uncomfortably, but forced himself to express gratitude regardless. He was hardly in the mood for such an extended social interaction, but that clearly deserved a thank you.

“Thanks for that,” Link finally got out, acknowledging the other for the first time during the whole exchange. 

“Ha! You DO speak!” The other man barked with laughter again. “It’s no problem. I know how Eagus can get. Eager Eagus is his nickname among the officers. Eager to please, but only if you’re in the guard. He tried to get in during his youth but I think he has a club foot or something.”

Link doubted that with the way Eagus was running around, but said nothing to the contrary. As much as he didn’t enjoy being watched while eating, he couldn’t wait any longer. It had been a hard day and he just wanted some sustenance and alcohol. Plus the new potato was so perfectly baked and dressed he couldn’t contain himself. He started in on the potato with gusto until he desperately needed a mouthful of ale. When he took his drink, he saw the officer out of the corner of his eye still watching him. He set down his tankard and turned to fully face the other, squinting.

“Do you need something from me?” Link asked the officer pointedly. He was decently tall with coarse, curly dark hair that was sheared close to his scalp. Likely regulation, as most of the men in the tavern sported the same cut, but he was one of few that had a beard.

“Name’s Rensa. What’s yours?” 

Rensa cracked a grin, revealing dazzlingly white teeth that seemed even whiter against his dark skin. Seeing his face, Link’s irritation began to slowly melt away.

“...Link.”

“Hm.” Rensa paused for a moment, pursing his lips as he thought. “Strange name. But I like it,” he laughed goodnaturedly. “Are you from around here, Link? I ask because you look almost exactly like someone I used to know.”

“No, I’ve never lived in Hyrule Castle To--” Link began before he was cut off.

“No, no, I mean someone I used to know YEARS ago. You wouldn’t happen to be a Reidel, would you?” Rensa inquired, eyes sparkling. 

Link, like many other times in his life, had no idea what to say. He grabbed his tankard and drank deeply. Rensa waited patiently. He set down his cup and finally spoke.

“I couldn’t say,” Link admitted. He bit the inside of his cheek. He hadn’t meant to get so personal with this stranger, _why did he say that,_ but Rensa was one congenial motherfucker. At that statement, Rensa immediately straightened.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to press. It’s just that…” He sighed.   
“You look SO much like Alistair. And, I mean, his wife Elissa was pregnant when the war started. That was, what,” Rensa trailed off, “18, 19 years ago now?” 

Link froze. Hadn’t the Great Deku Tree told him that his mother was a refugee of the Hylian Civil War? That she had crawled into the Lost Woods and on her dying breath begged the Kokiri to keep her newborn son safe? He felt dizzy.

“Alistair and Elissa… did they… die? During the war?”

Rensa’s pained expression answered before he did. “Well, neither of them were found so I thought maybe... “ He trailed off again. “I’m probably a fool to cling to that hope. Anyway, I’m sorry, Link. That was rude of me to force sad shit out of you. For what it’s worth, I didn’t intend to.” 

Rensa made eye contact for a moment, then broke it. Link just watched him quietly, unsure of how to react. Looking at the floor, he gave a wry smile before continuing.

“It’s just that… Alistair was a positive influence in my life. He was young, but he was a commander in the guard. That’s how skilled he was. My dad was actually in his troop. That’s how we met. My dad was not kind to me. But Alistair always was. He even started teaching me to wield a sword before… well, you know. But it was always extra hard to learn from him because he used his left hand. So, you know, learning it all backwards.”

The ale Link had chugged was starting to catch up to him, and he couldn’t help but chuckle at that. Rensa quirked an eyebrow questioningly, a tad surprised at the usually silent Link’s outburst.

“I’m actually left handed.”

“No way!” Rensa gasped. “I’ll drink to that.” He cupped his hands around his mouth. “EAGUS!"

After a few more tankards of ale, Rensa turned to face Link on his barstool yet again. 

“This may sound crazy, because I’m drunk and I’ve also never seen your swordsmanship. But if you need a job, I can guarantee you a position in the guard,” he uttered gravely, one hand poised over his heart dramatically. Link scoffed.

“I’ve actually found bounty hunting to be the most profitable course of action, and I don’t have to cut my hair for it,” he gestured towards Rensa’s perfectly shaved and coiffed head.

“Hey now, I do this because I like it,” Rensa replied, slicking his hair back with both hands self consciously. After a beat, he spoke again.  
“So, bounty hunting, eh? Well, what if we teamed up?”

“Teamed up?” Link asked, squinting at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean who do you think issues most of the bounties?” Rensa gave him no time to respond. “The royal guard! So let’s work together, eh? I’ll give you the best bounties… Well, the ones you can handle, anyway.”

“I can handle anything,” Link scoffed. Rensa barked a laugh.

“Sure you can, kid.”

“Really! Let’s go to Tabantha. The gorge to the far west.”

“You mean where all those monster fortresses are?” Rensa inquired with a gasp. His eyes were huge. Link couldn’t help but laugh.

“Yes, where all the fortresses are. I’m sure there’s gotta be rewards in cleaning those rats’ nests out.” Link’s eyes gleamed as he gazed off into the distance. And he definitely wasn’t chasing the scream of completing a dungeon.

Rensa pondered that for a moment, then raised his eyebrows.

“You’re not wrong. Lemme take a sabbatical. We’ll do it together.” Rensa grinned at him, extending a hand for Link to shake. Instead of taking it immediately, although he desperately wanted to, Link stiffened.

“Whoah, Rensa. You’re drunk. Should you be making deals like this?”

“So are you! Should you?” Rensa’s dark amber eyes sparkled and he waggled his eyebrows while keeping his hand extended.

“Seriously though, Link. I’m unmarried. I never take time off. This is the most excitement I’ve been faced with since the last royal parade. Let’s do it.”

Link considered this for a moment, looking at Rensa’s still outstretched hand. It had been in position for so long it was almost awkward. Rensa wiggled his fingers as if trying to tempt him. Link then gave a decisive nod.

“Let’s do it,” he agreed. 

They shook hands firmly.


	7. Chapter 7

Link looked up at Zelda’s balcony cautiously, but she was alone, as always. She sat in the open air of her balcony, dressed in nothing but a cream colored silk nightgown. She had a book open on her lap that she was absorbed in, brushing her hair as she read. Link couldn’t help but marvel at the incredibly personal moment he had stumbled into, almost entranced. He sighed contentedly, yet audibly, and she jumped in response, turning to look at him in surprise. He suddenly became aware of her lack of clothing and covered his eyes.

“I’m sorry, princess, I just came to see you. I mean, talk to you, not just _see_ you…” Link cut himself off, biting his tongue. Stop talking. His face burned until he heard her reply.

“Link, it’s been a while. I wasn’t expecting you,” Zelda sounded embarrassed as well, but not angry or disturbed, he hoped. She retreated to her room and slipped on a modest beige robe made of the finest cotton Tabantha could grow. When she came back, she sat on the railing of the balcony and looked down at him.

“Join me,” she patted the spot next to her gently. Link finally dropped his hands, looking at her in the gentle torchlight. The light cast by the small flickering fire danced across her shiny golden locks as they glinted like the precious ore itself and her dark eyes held an unconcealed affection that made his heart leap to his throat.

He approached the structure and found the sturdiest patch of ivy around it. He climbed it expertly and maneuvered himself onto the stone balcony. He had never been so close to the inside of Zelda’s room before. Out of respect, he tried not to peek. Zelda smiled warmly as he sat next to her. Their knees were almost touching.

“I’m glad to see you again,” she said softly. His heart fluttered as he smiled back at her.

“Me, too,” he agreed. His smile faltered. No, he wouldn’t bring it up yet. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. 

“So, what were you reading?” Link inquired, gesturing towards the large tome she had set aside. Her eyes sparkled.

“Actually, I’ve been doing research on magic. Specifically spells and how to channel your own natural magical energy.”

He must have made a face because she rolled her eyes and continued.

“I know, ‘natural’ and ‘magical,’ it seems like an oxymoron. But magic is a flow of natural energy that, through effort, can be manipulated. I’ve actually been practicing myself.”

“Show me,” he interjected.

Zelda blinked at him owlishly.

“Are you sure?” 

At his very insistent nod, she took one of his large hands, again causing his heart to leap to his throat, and clutched it tightly between both of hers. She closed her eyes in concentration, exhaling slowly. Only slightly dizzy, he took advantage of her distraction to unabashedly stare. No royal portrait could ever do justice to the reality. Of course, the average citizen of Hyrule had a basic idea of her beauty. But only those who had seen her in person could fathom her ethereal quality. There was something otherworldly about her; perhaps the legends of the Goddess-blood princess were as true as those of the Ocarina of Time. 

It was only a few seconds before his musings were cut short and his hand became unexpectedly hot. Blindingly, even. He hissed through his teeth and wrenched himself free, pulling his arm protectively to his chest. It felt as though there was a nasty burn in the center of his palm. Zelda’s eyes shot open, brow furrowed in panic, regret, and humiliation. 

“Link, I’m so sorry,” she gasped, reaching for his burnt hand. “Trust me, I can help.”

Without even a moment’s hesitation, he relinquished his injured hand to her again. The surprise on her face was evident, but only for a moment as her eyes flashed with knowing. A light blush crept across her cheeks as she carefully pulled Link’s glove off and set it aside. She said nothing to alarm him, but he peeked and certainly spotted a nasty, dark mark in the center of his palm. He winced as she clasped her hands around it once again. Zelda did not close her eyes this time; instead, her gaze was trained to their bare entwined fingers.

A tingling sensation spread from his palm outward to his fingertips. It was not unpleasant, just strange. His wound had almost immediately stopped hurting, but he didn’t plan on admitting so. He had done his best not to touch her since he had awakened the triforce and memories inside her. The guilt was too much. Now, he was determined to take full advantage.

Eventually, she let go of his hand, but not before inspecting it closely. It was perfectly healed, and he thought his skin may be even smoother than before, although he couldn’t say for sure.

“Link, I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I burned you. It was just supposed to feel warm.”

He gave a short laugh, flexing his fingers experimentally. 

“Admittedly, I did ask for it,” he flashed her a lopsided smile. “Plus, you fixed me right up.”

He heard his own voice take on a velvety aspect he wasn’t aware he was capable of. Zelda heard it, too. She did not respond, but the blush that ghosted across her cheeks spoke for her. It was more than the embarrassment of the last few minutes. There was a beat of silence before he spoke up again.

“You know, Zelda, you’re powerful.”

She noticeably balked at the compliment, unsure of how to proceed. Eventually, a small, sheepish smile appeared on her face and she blushed deeper.

“Thank you, Link. I’m sorry, I don’t usually get compliments of such a nature, so I don’t know what to say,” she covered her mouth with one hand politely, attempting to look humble.

“Princess,” Link stated gravely. “I have high doubts that one such as you could exist without constant reminder of your perfection.”

His deathly serious expression paired with his hyperbolic phrasing made her laugh somewhat ungracefully as her blush deeped for a moment, then faded as she regained control of herself.

“Well, sir Link,” she spoke back just as formally, teasing, “if you must know, none of the many, many compliments fielded towards me are not focused on anything of substance.”

She paused, and a very uncharacteristic small, proud smirk appeared on her face just for a moment.

“You called me powerful. The adjectives I am most accustomed to hearing are more along the lines of… waifish, delicate, ethereal,” she recited, sounding bored. 

“Well, Princess, I can’t bring myself to disagree with those descriptions, but to reduce you to them is an insult to your character.”

The words fell out of his mouth before he realized exactly what he was implying. A shy smile broke out across her face and she bit her lower lip slightly, eyes sparkling in the torchlight. His heart skipped a beat as her gaze shifted downward to rest on his lips for a moment, then away. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he raised his ungloved hand to her chin. He tilted her face upwards toward his own slowly, as if giving her ample time to pull away; however, she did not. She kept still, as if waiting with bated breath. He touched his thumb to her lower lip, and she shivered only slightly.

Link then froze, as if realizing the gravity of the situation.

“Zelda, I came here to tell you that I have to leave Hyrule. I want to try and cull the monsters in the west. Monster raids have been worsening and… It’s like you said. The royal guard isn’t doing anything about it. Honestly, I don’t know when I’ll be back. Months, at least. Maybe a year. But I have to be honest with you before I…” 

He trailed off, shaking his head. What he couldn’t say was that he didn’t want to take advantage of her. He didn’t want to break another woman’s heart that truly deserved the best.

"When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow."

There was a moment of silence before a determined expression passed over her face.

“Kiss me,” she commanded. His eyes snapped to hers. They burned with a cool fire that conveyed meaning beyond her simple order. 

_We already knew this could never last. There’s no more time. It’s now or never._

His fingers traced from her chin along her jaw back behind her ear and tangled into the roots of her hair; she leaned into his touch as he brought her closer. Her large eyes were shut and she made a small sound of yearning anticipation as he slowly closed the gap between them. Link thought his heart might burst when he finally felt her soft lips on his. She made another quiet sound as she brought her hands up to rest on his chest. Zelda began playing with the collar of his undershirt, an uncovered finger teasing the bare flesh of his collarbone every so often as he kissed her fervently. It drove him wild.

He bit her lip gently in mild frustration and was rewarded with a quiet gasp. A shudder ran down his spine as he gently flicked his tongue against hers and received a shiver and quiet moan in response. Something stirred deep inside him as he combed his fingers through her freshly brushed flaxen hair. He could have died right then.

One of his hands moved downward to rest at her waist as hers moved to rest on his notable biceps. They broke apart for just a moment. Link looked at Zelda’s flushed face, her lips bruised and slightly parted. Wordlessly, she looked back at him and squeezed his arm with a disbelieving scoff and reddening cheeks. Equally embarrassed, he laughed softly and began to lean towards her again and she met him more than halfway. Her kisses were becoming needier and he was more than happy to oblige.

He thought for a moment about how a princess likely had few opportunities to dabble in romantic affairs besides her eventual marriage. Link firmly reminded himself to not push any boundaries, but that thought was almost immediately shoved away when she carefully guided the hand resting on her waist underneath her robe and up to a small, pert breast. He could not believe this was happening outside of his dreams.

The silken fabric of the nightgown made it surprisingly easy to feel her underneath. As his thumb brushed the concealed pink bud, she shuddered heavily. He made a low sound in the back of his throat, intensifying their already breathless kisses. He took his hand from her face and gripped her thigh tightly. Zelda moaned into his mouth as her legs reflexively parted slightly. 

Emboldened, Link slipped his hand under her nightgown. He slowly worked his hand up her thigh, massaging gently with his thumb, sure to give her ample time to react. She melted under his touch and, eventually, he was pleasantly surprised to discover she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. She gasped lightly as his calloused fingers quickly found a spot she didn’t know existed. His other hand was still gently cupping her soft breast while he continued to kiss her deeply.

Zelda was impressed at his ability to multitask. She caught Link by the wrist, wrapping it in the silk.

“Wait,” she panted. “Not here. The bed. And… lock the door.” Link had never known Zelda to be incapable of speaking eloquently, and he had never been so aroused.

He took her into his arms carefully, carrying her into her room. Gorgeous tapestries lined her walls and there was a substantial private library in one corner. Link barely noticed as he made a bee-line to her massive canopy bed. He lay her onto the impossibly soft mattress and as he hurried to lock the massive carved wooden door on the other side of the room she threw her robe to the floor. When he came back he stood by the bed for a moment, admiring her breathlessly. The silk of the nightgown was so thin he could see nearly every detail of her lithe body.

“Link,” she outstretched a hand to him, sounding impatient, nearly desperate. Desperate for him. Just the idea made his head spin. He slid off his boots, socks, and remaining glove then climbed on the bed next to her, tossing his long hat aside. He kissed her hard as a hand slid up her thigh once more. To her dismay, he pulled away. She opened her eyes questioningly just to see him disappear underneath her gown. Gentle kisses made their way from her knee down to her thigh, then even lower. 

“W-wait, what are you--” she began but cut herself off as a flat tongue moved deliberately against her. Zelda’s breath caught in her throat as she gripped his head through the silk fabric of her gown. He hummed in response and began tracing slow, lazy circles that she thought may drive her insane. She ground her hips upward against his mouth, but his rhythm didn’t falter. She panted, moaning softly as her breaths became shallower and shallower over the course of a few minutes. Suddenly, her whole body shuddered and she cried out, inadvertently pulling Link’s hair as she rode out an intense climax. She cried out again; the euphoria was unlike anything she had ever experienced. He didn’t mind in the least, but was thankful for the heavy wooden doors in the castle and their locks.

Once Zelda had relaxed entirely, he emerged from underneath her skirt. He gave her a wry smile as he wiped his mouth. She was too spent to feel embarrassment. Wordlessly, she stretched her arms towards him, begging for contact. His heart melted as he slowly crawled on top of her and propped himself up on his elbows. He stroked her face gently as she gazed up at him with flushed cheeks and swollen lips, half lidded eyes clouded with lust. Link had never seen anything more beautiful. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the forehead; she caught his face in her hands.

“I want you,” she breathed against his ear. He exhaled slowly, expending tireless effort to contain himself at her forwardness.

“Zelda, are you su--”

“Yes,” she interjected adamantly, already undoing his belt with newfound energy. She threw it aside as Link quickly pulled his tunic off, dropping it over the side of the bed. His undershirt and pants soon followed. When he turned to face her again, she was pulling her gown over her head. He just stared at her in awe. Eyes closed, she shook her long golden hair out as she tossed the garment aside. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed him gawking. She gave him a small, self conscious smile, drawing her legs close to her body.

“What is it?”

“You’re perfect,” he whispered. She blushed lightly and opened her arms to him again, moving to lay on her back. He came closer and her blush darkened, as if she suddenly became aware of their nakedness. He slowly got on top of her again, careful to watch her face for any sign of regret or fear. 

Zelda breathed shakily, placing one hand on Link’s shoulder; the other snaked downward, her delicate fingertips brushing against his taut abs. He shivered, then grit his teeth as she wrapped her fingers around him hesitantly. He buried his face in her neck as she gripped him tighter, tracing her thumb around his tip. He was painfully aroused.

“Zelda, please. I can’t,” he gasped. She slowly released him and he shuddered heavily. Link lifted his head again to look at her face as he spread her legs gently with his knee. Her breath hitched slightly and anxiety flashed in her eyes. He froze.

“We don’t have to.”

“I’ve never done this before,” she admitted quietly, breaking eye contact. 

“Zelda. We can stop,” he affirmed, tracing a thumb along her cheekbone.

“No,” she asserted, looking back up at him. “I want it to be you.” 

Link had no words to describe how he felt in that moment. As if there was any question before, now he knew for certain that he was deeply and desperately in love with her. 

He nodded wordlessly, leaning down to press his lips to hers. She tangled both hands in his hair as she eagerly kissed him back. He bucked his hips slightly, brushing against her. She was still so wet from his previous attention. She let out a soft moan, lowering her hands to his waist and pulling him closer. He obliged, barely pushing in before pulling back swiftly when she yelped. She trembled beneath him, tears pricking at her eyes.

“Zelda, do we need to st--” She interrupted by crashing her mouth against his. She gave a small desperate sound as he carefully pushed into her again, guided by her hands on his ribs. When her nails dug into his skin, he retreated; when she pulled him back, he was more than happy to thrust deeper. The regimen was actually quite convenient considering the severity of his arousal. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last long.

Soon enough, he was completely engulfed by her warmth. His eyes fluttered shut and he gave a long, shaky sigh. Zelda whimpered quietly and buried her face in his shoulder as he began to move against her. One of his rough hands tangled in her hair as the other slid underneath to the small of her back. He moved slowly at first, but as she grew more confident, she grasped at his hips begging for more. That was enough to undo him.

He climaxed with a low moan, gripping her tightly against his body as she kissed his jaw. He loosened his grip and pulled away abruptly. Link gave a few more isolated shudders then rolled off to her side, breathing heavily. Zelda lay on her back beside him, just as breathless. He jumped to his feet when his legs stopped shaking and located her wash basin, grabbing it and a washcloth. He carefully carried it over to the bed, gently wiping her abdomen and thigh of the mess.

“I’m sorry,” Link muttered sheepishly, thankful that her silk sheets were largely safe. She just shook her head and bit out a small, embarrassed laugh. He couldn’t imagine how she’d explain away a stain of that nature. Once finished, he hurriedly replaced the basin and cloth, face burning as he slipped back into bed beside her.

Her previously mildly amused expression was gone. He watched as fat tears welled from the corners of her eyes and streaked down her face. Link reached out a hand and gently wiped them away.

“What is it?” He murmured, softly stroking her hair.

“Do you really have to go?” She asked, so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. Something tightened painfully in his chest. He had nearly forgotten.

“Yes,” he eventually whispered back. He needed purpose. He wished he could say he was culling monsters purely for the villagers, for those who need help, but it wasn’t the case. He was adrift in a world where he had no place. His niche was erased by that damned ocarina. What else could he do?  
She said nothing, rolling towards him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He released a small sigh as her fingertips grazed the exposed skin of his chest and shoulders, eventually coming to rest over his heart. They were quiet for a long while. 

“I’ll be back for you. I promise.”

Zelda smiled. He sounded as if he was on the verge of sleep and she didn’t feel like she could take anything he said too seriously, but her heart fluttered nonetheless.

“I’d do anything for you,” he murmured under his breath, so quietly she knew she wasn’t meant to hear. 

“I know,” she whispered back, but he was already asleep.

She shed a few more tears into the crook of his neck. When she was calm, she listened to the rhythm of his breathing, felt the steady beating of his heart under her hand, and memorized the feeling of his arm around her waist.

Eventually, she was able to drift to sleep.

She awoke alone.


	8. Chapter 8

The day of Link’s departure was the day he awoke early alongside a naked Zelda. He’d slept without panic and awoke easily with the rising sun, but getting up was the difficult part. For nearly half an hour he lay beside her, listening to the rhythm of her gentle breathing and shamelessly drinking in every detail of her face. 

Sleep brought a youthful softness largely absent from her waking expressions. High cheekbones framed large, expressive eyes that, when open, reminded him of pools of pure spring water found deep in the forest. She always looked so noble, so serious. It was hard to tell what she was thinking, and she was always thinking. True to her nature, he supposed, touching the triforce symbol on the back of her hand with his thumb as he took it softly. He slowly extracted himself from her embrace, though it pained him to do so.

The cool morning air was heavy with dew and chilled his bare skin as he dressed hurriedly. He looked over at the sleeping princess again, heart heavy in his chest. Of course he didn’t want to leave her, but he felt a calling. Purpose had been missing from his life, and clearing out monster hideaways and helping townspeople sounded like the best possible career choice for someone with his specific skill set.

Link was almost fully dressed before he paused at his gloves. He was going into foreign territory. These worn leather gauntlets hardly served him in battle. He found the small blue time stone in his pocket and wrapped his fingers around it, focusing on the leather gauntlets in his other hand. They glowed brilliantly before they disappeared, the stone shining brightly through the deep green cloth of his tunic.

Link then thought of the silver gauntlets he had retrieved from the spirit temple. They weren’t as gaudy as the golden gauntlets but still gave him incredible strength that could be helpful during a monster raid. He imagined their weight and shape in his hands and, suddenly, they were there. The time stone was warm between his fingers. He let go of it and pulled the silver gauntlets over his wrists. 

Judging by the birds chirping and the cool morning mist, it was only around five in the morning at the latest. He was meeting Rensa by the huge tree in front of Lon Lon Ranch midday, meaning he had to leave soon if he were to make it on foot. He also had to show his face on the ranch to retrieve his horse, which he was not looking forward to. He chose not to think about it as he approached Zelda’s bedside one last time.

Link stopped to look at her sleeping face for another long moment before leaning in to kiss her forehead gently. She made a soft noise at the contact that made his heart skip a beat but did not wake. He finally withdrew and stood up straight, tucking her hair behind her long ear before tearing himself away and going to her balcony. He hopped down with the help of the ivy and escaped out the castle the way he came, past half asleep guards. 

He finally made it to the road outside the castle’s gate before breathing freely again. He heard the telltale sound of the town’s drawbridge descending and started towards it.

Link walked steadily through the market that was largely empty this early in the morning. He reached the drawbridge and gave a nod and wave to the guard manning it as he hurried across it. Lon Lon Ranch was a straight shot from the drawbridge directly south. 

He followed the road without incident for a few hours before arriving at the front gates of the ranch. The sun wasn’t in the center of the sky yet; he had time before Rensa arrived, which was preferable. Still, Link would have much preferred that picking up his horse would take no time at all, but he knew better. A confrontation was bound to happen whether he liked it or not.

Link ran a hand through his cowlicked bangs and took a deep breath before heading through the gates to the ranch. Nearing midday, it was likely Talon was still asleep and Malon was brushing the horses in the barn. It had been months but he still had their schedules memorized, he realized ruefully. He sighed and went into the barn.

He could see her from the doorway, flaming red hair shining in the sunlight streaming in from a nearby window. Her back was to him, but she heard the door close and turned toward him in curiosity. Her emerald eyes widened in shock, then darted around the room in surprised embarrassment.

“Link. What are you doing here?”

“I need Epona again. And I can pay you for boarding her,” Link stated awkwardly, staring back at her. She softened and dropped the brush she was holding onto a nearby stool. Her eyes flickered down to his wrists, then back up.

“Nice wrist guards.”

“Oh. Uh. Thanks.” Link cringed at his complete lack of ability to make small talk, but Malon took over, just as he always could count on her to do in the past.

“So, why do you need Epona? Have you found solid work?” Malon paused for a moment as if to give him time to speak, but then cut in again.  
“Because we always need help here.” She was quiet for a moment, then added, “it was hard to pick up the slack when you left.”

“I’m going to the western border of Tabantha with a friend. We’re going to clear as many monster nests as we can. It pays a bounty and helps the townspeople.”

Link answered honestly. He wasn’t sure why. She shook her head and scoffed with a wry smile.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you not to be a hero, fairy boy?”

“No.”

He answered honestly again, cracking a smile himself. She hesitated for a moment before taking a step toward him.

“You don’t have to risk your life. You can make a difference here, too.”

Malon took another few steps and reached out to touch his face, but he caught her hand in his. He had the opportunity to live on the ranch and he ran from it. He didn’t want it now. Wait, when did she get so close to him? 

“Link,” she breathed, inches from his face. “I miss what we had. Don’t you?”

Link froze as Malon traced a finger down his throat. He shivered slightly at the unwanted contact, which she mistook for arousal. All he had to do was say no, to move away, but he felt like he’d been stunned with a deku nut.

He stared back wordlessly as she closed the gap, passionately kissing him. His chest ached with nothing but guilt. He did not reciprocate, frozen in shame. She quickly noticed and jumped back, fixing her hair and turning red.

“Oh, my goddesses I’m so sorry. Epona is in stall 9.” 

Malon stared at the dirt floor as she hurried to grab a familiar saddle off its place on the wall and carried it over to Epona, placing it on her back and strapping it hurriedly.

Link eventually found his footing and walked over to Epona’s side, giving Malon plenty of room. He was nearly as humiliated as she was. He counted out five silver rupees to give to her, which she first balked at.

“It’s too much.”

“Use it to hire help,” he urged. “You don’t have to do it all alone.”

She looked at him as though she didn’t quite believe or understand what he was saying, but took the rupees anyway and stashed them in her apron.  
“Thank you.”

There was a loaded silence.

“I’m sorry, Malon,” he eventually got out. She exhaled loudly, eyes closed.

“Let’s just not talk about it, okay?” 

Link nodded in agreement as he led Epona out of the stall and barn. He hopped on her back and rode slowly through the gates and Malon followed a few strides, catching sight of Rensa at the same time.

“Heyyyy, Link!” Rensa called, waving from the back of a chestnut horse. He looked strange without a single insignia of the royal guard on his gear, Link thought. He wore a thick leather breastplate with chainmail peeking out underneath; the thick fabric of his shirt was a brilliant magenta, the same as the wildflowers that popped up all over Hyrule during high summer. 

Link turned toward Malon one last time.

“Thank you again, for everything.” 

She nodded decisively in response, averting eye contact, face still slightly red.

“Good luck out there.”

He cracked a smile before getting Epona to canter past Rensa’s steed, who caught up a moment later. Rensa looked over their shoulders back at Lon Lon Ranch before looking over at Link and catching his gaze.

“So, that Lon Lon Ranch girl is cute! Is she single?”

Rensa’s eyes sparkled as if he were telling a joke, but Link answered him emphatically.

_“Yes.”_


	9. Chapter 9

It was weeks before they reached the far border of Tabantha. They stayed in an inn near the gorge that was equipped with a stable for their horses. There were holes dug into the walls of the crevasse that were accessible by rope bridge made by monsters. The plan was to infiltrate and wipe out as many monsters as they could. Hopefully, all of them, Rensa had said with a grim laugh. 

They had both gone to bed early in preparation for their first raid. Link was grateful that their route was a road less traveled; they were able to get individual rooms at every inn they visited. He didn’t need Rensa knowing how often he awoke in terror. 

He had just fallen asleep for the third time before he heard a knock on his door. 

“Rise and shiiiiine!” Rensa called in a singsong tone.

Link groaned before rolling out of bed and throwing on his gear. He opened the door to find Rensa leaning on the frame with a dazzling grin.

“Ready to go?” Before Link could even finish nodding, Rensa interrupted.

“No we’re not! It’s the most important meal of the day, we can’t skip it if we’re going hunting.” He hooked a hand around Link’s bicep and dragged him to the inn’s kitchen. Link took a seat while Rensa ordered two plates of steak, eggs, and bacon.

When Link pointed out the lack of anything green on the plate, Rensa piped up,  
“You’re a man, eat your meat and shut up.”

Link could have questioned the purpose of gendering food if he had the energy, but he simply didn’t. Instead, he ate much of what was in front of him.

They went to the stable to retrieve their horses and walked them out through the stable door. Link took a deep breath of the fresh air full of the scent of fresh hay and manure as a shiver went down his spine. He was about to go into true danger again. His whole body should be screaming at him not to, but a fire inside of him was driving him to protect the world from the darkness at its reaches. It’s all he could do to feel as though he had a right to exist.

Lost in his reverie, he didn’t notice that Rensa had already mounted his horse and began galloping west. Link scrambled onto Epona and clicked his tongue. She took off and caught up in just a few moments. The other man grinned at him but said nothing as they rode.

The gorge was less than an hour away. The ride went by fast as Link chewed his lip and watched the gorge stretch out before him. When they reached the edge, they rode parallel to the dropoff until they found a hole on the other side of the crevasse accessible by a precarious rope bridge. The knots were strange but looked sturdy enough. Link and Rensa exchanged a look before dismounting their horses and approaching the edge of the bridge. 

Link exhaled a small breath before placing one foot on a rickety wooden plank. It held his weight even as he took another step further. He hurried across the bridge without looking down. Rensa was heavier but moved quickly after him. They stood in the mouth of the monsters’ nest silently. Link drew his gilded blade and Rensa unsheathed his broadsword as they began the descent into the wall. 

It was dark, but they could see torchlight around a corner further ahead. There was a strange, wet sound echoing off the walls, too. Rensa gave him a questioning glance, but Link just shrugged; he led the way and peeked around the corner.

The sound was a handful of bokoblins up to their wrists in a freshly dead sheep. There was a tall pile of livestock in various stages of decay nearby. These monsters had likely been terrorizing the nearby villagers for months at least. Link shuddered in disgust and readied his weapon, nodding to Rensa as he dashed around the corner into the light. The first bokoblin was caught off guard and lost its head to Rensa’s heavy broadsword before it could even react. The rest scrambled to grab nearby clubs and rusty swords, squawking in alarm and dripping slippery sheep’s blood down their gnarled claws.

Link quickly jabbed the monster closest to him through the heart before turning to slash at the throat of another. The gilded blade was short but light and the beady-eyed brutes hardly saw it coming before it sliced a major artery.

He glanced over his shoulder at Rensa who was busy whistling his heavy blade through the air. Link winced at the sound of crunching bones and squeals of agony, but he wasn’t one to argue with another’s tactics. They seemed effective enough.

A metal spear coated in dried blood whistled by his ear and he whipped around, narrowly dodging the tip of a two-handed sword as it swept towards his unguarded torso.

_Close,_ he thought as he balanced on the balls of his feet, glancing between the two monsters. The one holding the oversized sword lurched toward him, lifting the steel blade with difficulty. He held his ground, watching the other’s spear tip from the corner of his eye. It angled toward him and he quickly parried upward, knocking the spear from the creature’s hands. He turned his attention back to the one wielding the heavy sword, which had just begun to swing. Link bashed against the blade with his shield before it could gain any momentum, disarming the second monster as well before swiftly beheading it. He lunged at the first bokoblin as it grasped wildly for its spear, stabbing it through its distended middle as it shrieked shrilly.

The room then fell quiet besides his and Rensa’s harried breaths and the stench of blood and death filled the air. Rensa wiped his blade on a fallen monster’s loincloth and pointed to a hallway that went deeper. Flickering torchlight came from that way, as well. Link nodded and took the lead. When they reached the next room, there were a number of colored tiles amongst the plain white on the floor. Other than that, the chamber was empty.

Link sheathed his sword in alarm while Rensa stood confused. 

“What’s going on?” He asked, his voice ringing out through the empty room. It was then that a shadow solidified nearby, standing on a colored tile. Rensa pointed silently, jaw dropping as Link gripped the time stone in his pocket, summoning his bow and quiver.

“Wizzrobe,” was all Link said as he nocked an arrow and readied the drawstring.

The shadow’s head tilted as if responding to its name. It was still for a moment before becoming flooded in light. It hopped across the white tiles to another colored tile, spun, and cast a small red orb towards Link. It traveled in an unnaturally slow, steady arc unlike anything Rensa had ever seen.

“Rensa, run!”

Link rolled to the side and Rensa ducked back around the corner to dodge the orb that exploded in a huge fiery blast on contact with the wall. When Link regained his footing, he shot an arrow into the side of the creature. It howled aloud in pain and disappeared. Link waited patiently, shifting slightly on his feet. He closed his eyes and listened closely. 

When Wizzrobes materialized, they made a popping sound, like a water drop. He waited for that sound, which he heard moments later over his left shoulder. He spun around and shot an arrow before the wizzrobe could cast another spell. It fell to its knees before disappearing with another pop.

Just one more, Link thought to himself as he again waited, biding his time. He nocked an arrow and let his eyes slide closed once again. The sound, again, this time over his right shoulder. He whipped around and let an arrow fly into the neck of the creature and it fell over unceremoniously, its magic wand half-raised. Link’s bow evaporated in his hands back into the stone and Rensa peered around the corner in awe.

“How did you do that so easily?” Rensa inquired dubiously, eyes bugging as he stared at the corpse of the beast in front of him. Link just gave him a half hearted smile.

“Lots of practice.”

With that, the hole was cleared and they made their way back out. Scrambling across the bridge was even less fun on the way out, but Link felt a great sense of pride when they reached the other side and cut the ropes. There were likely hundreds of holes just like this filled with all sorts of creatures, but at least one was empty.

He and Rensa rode back to the inn and boarded their horses before ordering a couple of ales. They toasted to their swords and to one another and drank until their adrenaline wore off and they could finally rest for the night. In the morning they ate, paid, and headed north along the gorge. 

They spent weeks scouting and sweeping nests. The two camped most nights and stayed in inns when they could. The stench of monster’s blood was more pungent than any other kind. Link had memorized it in the past and to smell it again was a rush unlike any other. Memories of triumph and victory rushed back as he cut down a group of moblins in one cavern and another clot of bokoblins in the next. He felt more alive than he had in ages.

They had cleared a hole one morning and rode into a populated town near midday looking for a stable. To their surprise, people packed the streets and a parade of the local guard was in procession. Moving along side streets, eventually Rensa located an inn and hopped off his horse to head inside and rent two rooms. Link slid off Epona and grabbed ahold of each horse’s reins, leading them towards the stable. He paid the stable master, patted Epona goodbye, and followed Rensa through the main doors.

Link spotted his companion from the doorway. He was leaning on the bar, deep in conversation with the barkeep. As if on cue, the older man turned to face him, but his expression was troubled. Link cocked his head and approached the man behind the counter as well.

“Link,” Rensa began. “Listen to this. A man came through here and said his name was Alistair and that he used to be a commander of the royal guard.”

Link froze, unsure of what he was hearing.

“But he apparently threatened the townspeople with a sword and stole some goods and money before leaving. That doesn’t sound like the Alistair I knew… But he has his dog tags.”

“War changes people,” Link said simply, looking down in thought. He had never been in a war, per se, but he had to guess that he’d seen comparable horrors.

“What do you think, should we pursue him? He has a serious bounty on his head. Guess the guard doesn’t appreciate anyone ruining their good name.”

_And he could be your father._

Those unspoken words hung in the air between them until the crash of bottle through a nearby window startled them all, but mostly the bartender, who cursed aloud.

“These damn royal parades are nothing more than an excuse for the hooligans to act out another day of the year!”

Rensa chuckled at that, but humored the grumbling old man.

“What’s this royal parade for anyway, pops?” Rensa asked good naturedly.

“The princess is married. We’ve established peace between Hyrule and the savages in the Gerudo desert. For now, anyway, ‘til they stab our backs and steal our internals for their dark magic.”

The grizzled barkeep continued spewing close minded stereotypes of the Gerudo as Rensa listened, jaw dropping more and more, but Link hardly heard a syllable. 

The princess. Married. He truly should have expected this. He supposed he did expect it deep down, but was somehow able to avoid facing it until now. He wondered briefly if she cared for her new husband. He brought a hand over the hollow pain in his chest and reminded himself that it wasn’t his business.

He was jerked from his musings by a heavy hand on his shoulder and a concerned look from Rensa. Link got to his feet and leveled his expression. Rensa opened his mouth to speak, probably to ask if he was okay, but the younger man cut him off, directing his question to the old man behind the counter.

“Which way did Alistair go?”


	10. Chapter 10

The day after Link’s departure, Zelda didn’t unlock her door. She told Impa that she was unwell and just needed to rest, and though the Sheikah woman could see straight through her lie, the princess was given the space she needed. She spent much of the day alone in bed, but eventually rose past midday to retrieve a few magical tomes to leaf through on her massive bed absentmindedly. After just a few minutes of extremely distracted browsing, she cast a heavy book aside, sighing heavily and burying her face in her hands. 

_Ugh._

She thought that acting on her urges with Link would help her somehow. Maybe get it out of her system. She had always known her duty as princess of a kingdom: yes, to eventually rule, but mostly to secure alliances. She dug her perfectly filed almond nails into her scalp. 

Father had more than a few suitors to choose from, and she was nearly 18, the age traditional of betrothal for Hyrulean royals. It was just a matter of time before he chose. She lowered her hands to her lap, opening her eyes once more. She flexed her slender fingers anxiously.

She wondered if she would even be able to have a choice in the matter. Not likely. She hadn’t even met a single one of them so far. The only reason she knew they existed was from Impa’s observation, and Impa was particularly tight lipped on the matter. Zelda supposed she was rather uncomfortable with the situation as well, coming from a tribe with less stringent regulations on who one can wed. A small smile touched her lips. Impa had always been rather protective. Zelda supposed that she had strong feelings about an impending marriage as well but knew her place well enough to hold her tongue.

But what about Link? She froze, then wrapped her arms around herself. The topic of her inevitable betrothal was one that was loaded, to say the least. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up while they were together. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin whatever little time they had with each other. Besides, what would it matter to him? They weren’t a couple. They never had been. They’d never even broached the subject before. And yet… She shivered, shifting to lay curled up on her side.

He had complimented her. And it seemed sincere. But more than anything, the way he had looked at her. A warmth bloomed in her cheeks as she pictured his face. His pale eyes had burned so bright that night. It was like he was drinking in every moment. Butterflies raged in her core as she remembered their actions, most specifically his actions. Although she was alone, she covered her hot face shyly.

That was actually one factor that both bothered and benefited her. He was clearly experienced. How else would he know how to do what he did with his mouth?! Zelda was internally screaming in shame for even thinking about it. But, goddesses, was it good. 

Maybe an old fashioned rut would have gotten him out of her system. An average experience to show her that it wasn’t truly worth all the fuss. But, no, he had to go and do that. There was no possible way she would forget him now. She uncovered her face and gripped her bedspread gently.

Although, she mused, even if he hadn’t used his mouth, he certainly knew how to move his hips. Her face flushed red again, but she just giggled girlishly to herself. 

_Oh, Nayru, am I in trouble._

The days turned to weeks and, eventually, Zelda was able to go more than a few hours at a time without thinking about him. She missed him terribly, but was able to focus on other things. That was progress, she supposed. Zelda had always prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize and focus on the job that needed done. Link was the only thing that had ever completely derailed her. She had thrown all caution to the wind to be near him, and yet, she didn’t regret it.

One morning, she woke to a wave of extreme nausea. Zelda clamped a hand over her mouth and shuddered, her eyes screwed shut. After a moment, the wave passed. She quickly hopped out of bed to retrieve a wash basin during the calm, but her knees gave out. She tumbled to the floor with an ungraceful yelp. 

A passing maid heard the commotion. She opened the heavy door a crack and peered into the room. The maid’s eyes nearly popped out of her head when she spied Zelda lying helplessly on the floor. Zelda gestured urgently towards the porcelain wash basin across the room, which the maid hastily provided for her.

“Heavens! Princess, are you alright?”

“Get Impa, now!” Zelda grit out before vomiting violently into the bowl. The maid jumped to her feet, scuttling off at record speed. 

Impa was there almost immediately. She gently scooped Zelda into her arms, then deposited her into the bed. The maid came back with her to whisk the basin away with a controlled, though faintly disgusted, expression.

“Sip this.” Impa gave her a flask of spring water, which she sipped carefully, sitting up. Her head was pounding. She kept her eyes closed and tried to relax and ease the pain. She hardly noticed Impa close and lock the door securely after the maid made her exit.

“Impa, what’s wrong with me? I feel like death,” Zelda moaned. She massaged her temples gently, but it hardly helped. When she received no answer, she opened her eyes. Impa was looking back at her somberly.

“What?”

“Zelda, it is the end of the month.”

“What does that have to do with--”

“Does your cycle not typically begin mid-month?” Impa interrupted.

There was a long pause. The silence weighed on her chest and she struggled to catch her breath. She hadn’t thought about it. She’d been so caught up in her studies and her own mind that she didn’t realize how much time had passed. Menstruation was an unpleasant inconvenience. Her time as Sheik was a welcome respite, although the arrangement came with its own discomforts. 

“Sometimes it may begin a little later,” Zelda began uncertainly but was cut off again.

“This late?” Impa’s crimson eyes were focused on her, but Zelda looked away without saying a word. After a heavy silence, Impa spoke again.

“Zelda. Is there any chance you could be --”

“Don’t say it,” Zelda interrupted her this time, bringing a hand up. Her eyes were closed tightly, delicate brow furrowed and dotted with sweat. Impa nodded, sighing deeply.

“What do you want to do?” Impa’s words hung heavily in the air. Eventually, Zelda answered.

“What else can I do?”

Impa nodded once more. After another silence, she spoke.

“There is an old Sheikah recipe for an herbal concoction that can--”

“Make it for me.” Zelda interjected; she stared up at the ceiling, her hands gripping the thick comforter above her abdomen. “Please,” she added, her voice much smaller than before.

“I’ll need a few hours to gather the ingredients. I’ll be back as soon as I can. I’ll let the servants know you’re sick and not to bother you.” Impa spoke decisively as she approached Zelda’s bedside to kiss her forehead.  
“Don’t worry. You’re not alone,” the Sheikah woman assured her.

“Thank you, Impa.” Zelda’s eyes slid closed again as Impa left, locking the door behind her. 

She exhaled slowly, yet still felt faint. There was no way that she could be ill in that way. She was literally weeks away from betrothal and months from a royal wedding. She couldn’t even try and pretend that it happened because of someone else; the timing was all wrong. She had no choice.

Zelda rolled to her side and placed a hand on her middle. She tried not to think about Link and failed miserably, silently soaking her silk pillowcase in tears. Somehow, she drifted off and awoke to the sound of Impa unlocking her door. She entered, then locked the door behind her once more.

Impa approached her bedside, clutching a small cup of thick, dark liquid alongside a larger one full of cool water.

“Here.” She offered Zelda the cups. “Drink it all. You’ll be sick for the next few days. I’ll keep everyone away. You need to focus on resting.”  
Zelda took them hesitantly and exhaled a shaky sigh. Impa reached out and tucked a lock of gold hair behind her long ear.

“Thank you, Impa.” Zelda gave a grateful yet pained smile to her attendant.

“Of course, little bird,” Impa murmured; Zelda’s heart panged at the use of a childhood nickname. It was quiet for a moment before Impa spoke again, this time with much hesitation.

“Zelda, if I may ask, who--”

“Impa, please don’t.”

The silver haired woman just nodded curtly in response.

“Thank you for everything, but I’d like to be alone now.”

“Yes, princess. I’ll be here if you need anything.”

Zelda’s eyes slid closed and she cradled the cup in her unsteady hands motionlessly until she heard the heavy door close and lock for the final time. 

She brought the cup up to her lips. It smelled medicinal, and was strong enough to burn her nostrils. She gave a delicate cough and exhaled deeply before plugging her nose and downing the concoction without another moment’s hesitation.

She couldn’t afford to change her mind. 

It burned all the way down and mingled with the sinking pit in her stomach as Zelda chased the mixture with water and fell back into bed in exhaustion.

She awoke the next morning in a pool of blood, pain radiating from her center. She moved to cry out for Impa before realizing she was already there, cool cloth in hand to dab at Zelda’s clammy forehead.

Impa soothed her while sheets were changed in confidence; she writhed for three days. She sobbed, not just from pain but from grief. Impa was there to comfort her, but the loneliness ate her from the inside out. 

On the fourth day, she was properly numb. Pale, eyes slightly sunken, she dressed in her everyday fineries and returned to normal.

At noon, she was called to meet with her father. She walked slowly on wavering legs. She looked at him coolly on his throne as he spoke.

“A suitor has been chosen,” his voice filled the throne room. She closed her eyes for a moment, collecting herself. When she opened them again, they stayed narrowed into slits. Her look was icy. 

“And who, pray tell, chose him?” Venom subtly tinged her words, but the king hardly acknowledged it.

“Myself, as well as my most trusted council members. Remember, Zelda, this is for the future of the kingdom,” he sounded as though he was warning her. She bristled, straightening her spine almost imperceptibly. 

“I am glad to serve as your collateral in a treaty for wealth, father. Such is my duty. If you’ll excuse me,” Zelda gave a mockingly deep curtsy to end the conversation, such as manners dictated. She was so dedicated to making her statement that she came close to falling over (she was still rather faint); her father responded with an audible sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

She didn’t even care to find out who she was marrying. At this point, did it matter? She spun around to make her exit, but the throne room was long and his voice boomed after her. 

“One day you’ll understand. This match is beneficial to everyone involved.”

Zelda almost laughed, but instead gave no indication she was listening as she stormed through the throne room doors and back to her chambers. She locked the door and grabbed a book on fire magic to distract herself. She found herself reading the same sentence repeatedly before she slammed the book shut and crawled back into bed, not bothering to undress besides pulling off her tiara and tossing it aside. It clattered loudly on the stone floor.

Its weight was more than just physical, she mused as she curled into herself, small in the center of the giant plush mattress. 

The next few months flew by. Zelda hardly left her study, spending her days and nights with her nose buried in ancient tomes. She slowly started practicing what she remembered of her Sheikah training, though it had been a lifetime since she had been Sheik. 

She had acquired long throwing needles and shurikens from Impa and though she could still throw them rather accurately, she was disappointed to realize they never sank deeply into the wooden stake in her courtyard that served as a target. She eventually was able to convince Impa to train her, much to the Sheikah woman’s surprise.

They were in Zelda’s courtyard for one such training session when Impa asked about her betrothal. Zelda executed a near-perfect high kick on the training dummy Impa had provided for her before sighing deeply and wiping her brow.

“Do we have to talk about this?”

“Not necessarily, but you haven’t said a word on the issue and the wedding is being planned,” Impa stated bluntly. “And now you’re asking for physical training? Are you planning on punching the man instead of saying ‘I do?’”

Zelda sighed again, hitting the dummy’s blank face in frustration.

“Of course not.” She paused, then answered simply, “I just don’t want to feel helpless.”

“I understand.” Impa approached her and she dropped her fighting stance. The older woman placed a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t want to feel vulnerable.”

“I suppose not,” Zelda agreed with a wry smile, reaching up to squeeze Impa’s hand.

A flash of light, then nothing.

She gasped as she came back to consciousness, still standing, but with a death grip on Impa’s hand. She whipped her head to the side to look at Impa, who just looked back soberly.

“What was that?” Zelda’s voice was so weak she hardly heard herself. Her hands were clammy and she felt ill.

“The triforce,” Impa answered evenly. “My memories as the sage of shadow have returned.”

Zelda fell into her arms, both sick and relieved. Tears welled in her eyes.

“Impa, I’m so sorry,” she choked out, but I’m not alone anymore.

Impa sank to her knees, still holding the princess tightly.

“Don’t be. You’ve been through more than anyone.”

“Not him.” It fell out of her mouth before she realized what she was saying.

Impa froze, then heaved a deep sigh and kissed the top of her head.

“Do you remember when he visited you as a child? Most recently,” Impa clarified. 

Zelda, confused, nodded slowly in response as Impa continued.

“I warned him that reawakening your memories would be beneficial to no one but himself, and yet…”

She trailed off as Zelda extracted herself from her arms, shaking her head.

“No, I needed to know. For my people.”

For myself.

She heard Impa suck air through her teeth before she bit out,  
“What does your traumatization bring to the people?”

Surprised, Zelda flinched before responding slowly.

“The knowledge I retained is critical. I can improve our city’s defense because I know what fell first. And no war among mortals can recreate that destruction. Besides, my own triforce piece could have awakened by itself at some point.”

“But it hadn’t. At that point, Link was the only one that had to remember. Consciously or not, he decided your company was worth your pain. And now, you’re so disillusioned you hardly leave your room. You have already faced the death of your kingdom; a marriage should be trivial in comparison,”

Impa had always been blunt, but Zelda was taken aback. She felt as though she had been slapped. She stared at Impa mutely, eyes wide.

“It was him. Link.” Another pause. “And you’re in love with him.”

Zelda was not accustomed to being entirely speechless, yet here she was. She rose to her feet and Impa followed suit. A guarded look took over the princess’s face before she spoke again.

“I will complete our training regimen alone this afternoon. In this time I’d like you to remember you hold the position as my most trusted attendant, not councilor. You are dismissed.”

Impa gave a quick bow before making her leave without another word. Zelda supposed even Impa, who has always spoken decisively, realized she had overstepped a boundary. Zelda had never before pulled rank on her, and it wasn’t a feeling either of them enjoyed.

Zelda returned her attention to the training dummy in front of her, teeth bared as she kicked it solidly in its torso.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This references a conversation between him and Impa in the past in my other fic "Mercy." https://archiveofourown.org/works/21173291


	11. Chapter 11

Another three months passed and Zelda, with painted lips and rouged cheeks, was set to meet her betrothed. It was now just weeks until the wedding and _he_ would be here any moment to begin finalizing negotiations.

She wore a long sleeved teal satin gown decorated by silver thread embroidery and inlaid with aquamarine and a number of small diamonds. It was breathtaking, but heavy. Her tiara had been polished so thoroughly that its gleam nearly hurt her eyes and her corset was drawn rather tight, but as she observed herself in the mirror, she had to admit she made a fairly tempting bribe for peace.

She sat in front of her mirror, staring silently until she was beckoned to the throne room. Although they had hardly exchanged any words since their argument, she found Impa outside of her door waiting for her. The older woman escorted her quietly, matching her slow pace. Zelda’s heavy gown and tight corset kept her from rushing, not that she was in any hurry to meet the man she would soon be given to. 

“I’m sorry for what I said in the courtyard that day,” Impa said quietly.

“I am as well. You are far more than simply my attendant.”

Zelda reached out to give Impa’s closest hand a squeeze, which the larger woman returned firmly.

“This could never be easy.”

“But it is necessary,” Zelda exhaled, slowing her stride even more. She was nervous, to say the least. There was a weight hanging over the princess and her nursemaid as they continued down the long hallways of the castle.

A nursemaid serves only until the adulthood of a royal. Traditionally, the period of caretaking ends when a wedding takes place. Just the thought made her heart wrench in her chest.

Zelda felt only slightly faint as they approached the entrance to the throne room. She gave Impa’s large hand a final, hard squeeze before releasing it. With just a moment’s hesitation, she sucked in a deep breath before entering the massive doors. Although they had never intimidated her before, they now made her feel so, so small.

She walked the long procession up to the smaller throne behind and to the right of the King’s. Following at a respectful distance, Impa took her spot behind her right shoulder. Zelda was ever grateful for her soothing presence. She couldn’t bear to imagine what it would be like without her. Still, it was approaching fast.

Her father was already seated and gave her hand a squeeze as she passed by, but his always felt less genuine than Impa’s.

The queen’s throne lay empty beside him, just as she always remembered.

Finally, she took her seat and leaned back, taking long, even breaths. Unfortunately, thrones were often built for looks, not for comfort; the perfectly straight back was already beginning to make her awfully sore. The corset prevented any substantially deep breathing, but she did her best to keep from hyperventilating. 

Soon, he was announced.

“King Faroh of the Gerudo,” the herald cried.

Zelda’s heart leapt to her throat. Her mind raced and her head spun; Faroh? The last Gerudo male she met was Ganondorf, and they’re supposedly only born once every 100 years. However, he was sealed along with the triforce of power in the Temple of Time.

As he rounded the corner, however, her shoulders fell in relief. The Goddess of Time must have erased Ganon’s existence from this timeline entirely, even as a man.

He was large in stature, like Ganondorf was, but his flaming red hair was long and pulled back, falling to his shoulder blades. He wore supple brown leather armor with chainmail underneath that glinted gold in the rays of sunlight that poured from the throne room’s large windows.

As he approached the throne and his features came into focus, she could see he was clean shaven with deep golden brown skin and bright amber eyes that were focused on her.

She felt bare under his gaze, but refused to give away her discomfort. Her expression remained demure as she took small, even breaths. Damn this corset.

As Faroh approached the King’s throne, he bowed deeply. The King gave a small bow in return and the Gerudo man, _her fiance,_ rose and approached her throne next.

Anxiety clawed at her chest as she offered him a gloved hand. He took it in one large palm and brushed his lips against it with an arrogant smirk that did not go unnoticed.

Her stomach sank but her blushed face remained still, like that of a porcelain doll.

Gerudo desert was rife with minerals and metals. Hyrule had everything else. An alliance made sense, especially with how tense relations between the two nations had been historically.

“Princess Zelda, it is an honor to finally meet you,” Faroh broke the silence. His voice was smooth, almost velvety. He looked to be around 35 years old, and fairly handsome, she admitted; she was confused, why didn’t he already have a queen?  
“You are as beautiful as promised.”

Zelda felt ill at that, but forced a gentle smile. 

_I really am being traded._

She wanted nothing more than to wrench her hand from his, but resisted the urge. She spoke, but the voice that came out seemed foreign and hollow.

“King Faroh, it will be my honor to forge our kingdoms together.”

Her father executed a firm nod in her peripheral, and she found herself partially relieved despite the pit forming in her stomach. At least someone felt this was the correct thing to do.

The weeks flew by in a haze. She had no part in the wedding planning, thankfully; the day of, she was awoken early in the morning to be appropriately draped and adorned in fineries. She hardly slept the night before and knew it was obvious considering how long one of her handmaidens spent perfecting the area under her eyes.

She’d spent the whole night thinking of the benefits of an alliance between Hyrule and the Gerudo, but she still could not feel comfortable with the issue. The agreement would be fruitful for both sides. Hyrule had grain, cloth, an abundant and accessible water table, and a world renowned army. The Gerudo Desert had metals for weapons and armor alongside gems for trade, and their traditional forging methods were unrivaled.

He was attractive, she conceded that, and he was most certainly not Ganondorf, which was her main concern; yet he still made her nervous.

His eyes were cold. And that smirk he gave… it all seemed so calculating.

She admonished herself for judging someone solely on their first impression, but she couldn’t shake her discomfort.

Much like the day of their meeting, she was left alone with her thoughts after being properly decorated. She sat with her hands folded in her lap, gazing into the mirror. What she saw wasn’t her, but a caricature of a queen. 

Her eyelashes were darkened, her cheeks made rosy, and her lips stained red. A net of white lace encrusted with Gerudo jewels covered her long flaxen locks that were braided and pinned back. The bodice of her dress formed a subtle pattern of swirls made from differing grades of small diamonds. The pendant around her neck was a quartz crystal of incredible rarity, clear as glass. It represented purity in Gerudo culture, which made Zelda internally cringe. Lace covered her arms and chest up to her neck, and she wore a corset yet again, although this time she bargained with the handmaidens to wear it slightly looser.

As she observed herself, she was all at once baffled by the opulence of the event. Hundreds of thousands of white flowers. Hundreds of noble guests. A parade through Hyrule Castle Town. It was all so much.

_What would Link think of something like this?_

The thought made her stop in her tracks. She gripped the heavy skirt of her dress in frustration. No, she couldn’t possibly think of him right now. She had a duty to fulfill, and with so much black on her lashes, she definitely couldn’t cry.

She jumped when she heard a firm knock at the door. When she opened it, Impa took her hand gently and led the way from her room at the castle to a carriage outside.

“You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Impa.”

“I’ll see you there.”

Impa helped her inside the carriage, kissing her hand affectionately. _Don’t let go,_ Zelda wanted to scream, heart rate increasing. _Don’t leave me._ She didn’t. For a moment, she froze, but as Impa let go of her hand, she couldn’t contain herself. She threw her arms around Impa to the best of her ability, stopped short by the constrictive lace sleeves of her dress. Her hands gripped the back of Impa’s leather bodice desperately and she felt a soft, sad exhale against her hair. Impa’s large arms encircled her just for a brief spell before she let go, knowing how inappropriate this display was. Luckily, the king was nowhere near to witness it. 

“Thank you for everything.”

It came out as a soft whisper and the large Sheikah woman just shook her head with a wry smile. 

“It was my honor to serve the royal family. To watch you grow up to become who you are today was the greatest gift I could ever receive.”

Zelda felt her eyes getting misty and blinked quickly to dispel the tears. Impa tucked a misplaced strand of blonde hair behind her long ear and squeezed both Zelda’s small hands between her large, rough ones before finally letting go. They gave each other a small smile as Zelda hesitantly took her seat in the carriage and Impa shut the door carefully behind her. 

Now she was alone with a gorgeous bouquet on the seat across from her. The inside of the carriage smelled incredible and she couldn’t help but appreciate the rare desert flowers tucked amongst many of Hyrule’s most beautiful petals. Whoever received the designation of royal floral designer surely deserved the position, she thought as she plucked a vibrant red petal absentmindedly. Her heart caught in her chest as the carriage lurched into movement.

The ride to the Temple of Time was short, but it felt like an eternity. Her legs were shaking when the carriage door was thrown open and she was offered a hand by the footman. She took as deep a breath as she could muster and took the hand delicately, descending on wobbling legs. Luckily, the skirt of her dress was large enough to disguise her trembling feet, and the footman’s hand was steadier than she expected.

Zelda let out a breath. She could do this. She had been through worse, to say the least; although she quickly noticed that remembering worse events wasn’t helping the immediate present as she forced herself to steady her breathing.

All at once, she stepped out into a crowd of commoners barely held back by members of the royal guard. Most of them were holding flowers and clamoring to get to the line of guards for a chance to glimpse the princess in her wedding gown. She was used to attention, but this was overwhelming. The stones on her veil and gown were heavy and she was again thankful for the strength training she received from Impa. 

Zelda took another breath and kept walking; her heart sank as she was forced to let go of the footman’s hand. She entered the temple doors with her head high but her heart in her throat. She found herself in the back of a number of pews. Everyone stood to look at her, but everything was blurry besides the aisle in front of her and the man waiting for her at the end.

Faroh was clad in shining golden armor, traditional wedding garb of a Gerudo king. The pauldrons were large and in the shape of lions’ heads, their manes shaped like the powerful rays of the radiant desert sun. His long red hair was pulled back again, pinned by a solid gold and ruby hairpin that was also shaped like the harsh sun that ruled life in the arid wilds he hailed from. The polished golden sheen of his chestplate matched that of his eyes that were fixated on her attentively.

He was smirking again, as if about to be presented with an award. She felt her father take her arm to guide her forward, but was otherwise numb as she neared Faroh with each step. The blood rushing in her ears drowned out the music that played and the choir that sang.

She stood across from him in a haze. As the priest droned on, Faroh took her hand in his and slid a huge mounted ruby onto her finger that matched the jewels adorning his hairpiece. Gaudy, she thought, but how else would people know she was accounted for? She hardly remembered saying “I do” but then his lips were on hers. It was warm inside the temple from candles and thousands of bodies but she felt cold. They exited the temple together after signing the marriage certificate; her hands trembled but her signature was neat and practiced. 

Zelda and Faroh were ushered into an extravagant carriage that took them back to the castle. The ride, again, was short but neither of them said a word. Zelda sat silently with hands folded in her lap and Faroh sat straight with his arms folded, smirking still. As they departed, Zelda counted the chimes of the bells in the tower of the Temple of Time. 6 in total, each quieter than the last. 3 chimes each for the bride and groom to bless them in their new life together. The sound had always brought her a wistful sort of hope as a child, dreaming of the day she would meet her true love. Now, her stomach sank deeper with each tone.

Upon returning to the castle, Faroh guided her to his chamber. She hardly felt a thing as he locked the door and began removing his heavy armor. She took a seat on a plush stool in front of a large mirror, gazing at herself once more. She heard softly clanking metal behind her as he continued shedding his opulent armor, but she sat transfixed staring into her own dark eyes, thinking of nothing. He was still in chainmail when he came over behind her, removing the pins in her hair and veil carefully. She watched his hands in the mirror and suddenly realized that all of his fingers were bare. 

“You’re a vision,” Faroh murmured as he set the veil safely to the side. “Hylian weddings are strange, performative, even, but you make it all worth it.”

Zelda shivered as he swept her long hair aside and began methodically undoing the many buttons of her dress, starting at its high collar. She watched him carefully in their reflection, but he was looking down, focused on the task at hand. She bit her lip slightly before asking,

“Have you been married before?”

“Why do you ask, because I’m older?” When Zelda gave no immediate response, he chuckled.  
“Yes, I was. She was a Gerudo as well. Fell in battle.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, she gave her life in honor. She died fighting for what she loved.”

Done with the buttons on her bodice, his long fingers went to work on the strings of her corset. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck. She shivered, then spoke up again.

“Why did you agree to an alliance with Hyrule? The Gerudo have never shown any desire for peaceful negotiation before.”

Faroh’s hands stilled and she panicked for a brief moment, watching her own eyes widen in anxiety until his fingers resumed their task.

“Two strong kingdoms that have what the other doesn’t. Wouldn’t it make sense to make an arrangement?”

His voice was velvety as always. There was a silence for a moment, then he chuckled again.

“You ask a lot of questions for a woman.” 

She kept silent, but was perplexed at his comment. He came from a society of all women, yet he didn’t seem to generally respect them. Then, it struck her. It’s true that all of his mentors, peers, commanders, and soldiers were female, but his own gender gave him divine right. In his fortress he was surrounded by femininity but was ultimately above it.

Zelda was pulled from her thoughts as her corset came undone and, with a final tug of the laces, her back was exposed. She shivered at the cool air and felt Faroh’s warm lips against the back of her neck as he slipped the lace sleeves over her arms. The dress fell and pooled around her feet, leaving her bare. She moved to cover her breasts with her forearms, but Faroh caught her gently around the wrists and held them still, admiring her reflection in the mirror over her shoulder.

“Gorgeous,” he remarked, but she felt dizzy. His lips found the side of her throat and she broke out into shivers again.

“Please, Faroh. It’s cold.” Her voice sounded small.

“Of course, my queen,” he let go of her wrists before lifting her out of her dress and carrying her to his bed. He set her down, then stood just looking at her once more. Humiliated, she pulled the blankets over her bare body without a word.

Faroh got undressed the rest of the way and slid into the bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. They were strong, like Link’s, but she didn’t feel safe next to him. He was huge, nearly three heads taller than her, but it hadn’t intimidated her until now. His fingers traced down her back and she shivered again.

“Hylians are so small,” Faroh remarked. “I’ll do my best not to hurt you.”

She just nodded in response as he brought a large hand up to cup a small, pert breast. She closed her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her and imagined kissing another, but the moment didn’t last.

She could never imagine Link kissing with Faroh’s ferocity. Sharp canines nipped her lower lip and when she gasped in pain and surprise, a tongue invaded her mouth. Large hands gripped her hips hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises in their wake. She yelped when he thrust into her but he hardly seemed to notice; he moaned into her hair as she sank her long fingernails slightly into his shoulders, teeth gritted. 

When he was satiated, he got dressed again, but Zelda stayed curled in the bed. He sat down beside her and kissed the top of her head before speaking.

“One warning. You may not mark me.” He didn’t sound necessarily angry, but it was clear that he was dead serious. She nodded, but Faroh wasn’t satisfied.

“Tell me you understand. Keep your nails off of me.” His voice deepened slightly. He reached out and gently but firmly took hold of Zelda’s chin and turned her to face him. She bristled internally, but showed no outward rage. Instead, she gazed defiantly into his golden eyes, expression cool as she spoke.

“I understand.”

“Good.” He bent down to kiss her lips before getting to his feet.  
“I have negotiations with your father. Stay here as long as you wish, my queen.”

Zelda gave no answer as he left, but lay there for a few more moments. Eventually, she dressed in a silken nightgown provided by the maids and hurried through the halls to her own room. Luckily it wasn’t far and the dormitory areas never had too many guards on patrol; being seen in this state was as far from dignified as she could act.

She kept her head down and made it to her chambers safely. She closed the door behind her and leaned against it in relief. She felt protected in her room with her library, foolish as it now seemed. The heavy ring felt foreign on her hand and she wondered briefly why Faroh chose not to wear one. It’s true it was a Hylian tradition, but as it seemed, she was the only one who had to wear a symbol of her marital status. More and more she felt like nothing more than a pawn in a political chess game. A gift.

Zelda stood up straight, mouth twisting at the worsening stickiness between her thighs. She calmly retrieved a fresh washrag and cleansed herself, tears finally welling up. They trailed silently down her cheeks as she methodically finished cleaning up, then lay in her own bed. 

She slowly soaked her pillowcase in tears as she thought about Link, about what could have been; no, about what almost was. She hadn’t seen him in months. They never had time to really talk, and now, it was too late. She never got the chance to confess before being practically handed off to someone else.

And she never told him about-- she stopped herself short. Many things were unsaid between them, a lot of which haunted her; she hardly needed to catalogue each one individually. She didn’t know if she’d even see him again. She didn’t know if he’d even want her after-- she stopped herself once more and exhaled sharply through pursed lips.

None of that mattered now. All that mattered is establishing good relations between Hyrule and the Gerudo. Part of that is bearing an heir, which she had lamentably begun working towards. At this point, she didn’t think her father could ask any more of her. 

Her body ached and she was reminded again of her new husband. She grimaced as she threw her tear stained pillow aside and grabbed a dry one instead. He was from a warrior culture with overall larger people. It made logical sense that he had simply underestimated his strength. His last wife was probably at least two feet taller than her and twice her weight in solid muscle, Zelda guessed. Still… the coldness in his eyes that she noticed previously was not to be overlooked. 

Her eyes slid closed, exhausted. She imagined a pair of pale blue eyes to comfort herself, the color of ice but exuding an incredible warmth and protectiveness she’d never seen elsewhere. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Link would protect her from anything to the very end. She’d witnessed it.

Eventually, she drifted into a fitful sleep, dreaming of harsh golden dunes and oases of green.


	12. Chapter 12

The months turned to years following Alistair’s footsteps. Rensa and Link were both becoming tired of the tedious pursuit, but as time went on, his bounty and their burning curiosity grew. They followed him as far south as the Gerudo Highlands and even north into the foothills of Hebra’s monumental mountains, but he was always one step ahead.

They had to stop twice to have Link a new tunic made (he wouldn’t go anywhere without a green that matched his hat) because he outgrew it in the shoulders and to pick up new pants because he “couldn’t pull off high waters,” according to Rensa. Affording custom gear was easy when two swordsmen of their stature teamed up to collect royal bounties. For the first time since Termina, banks would have taken Link seriously if he’d visited one. 

They had just missed Alistair for what felt like the thousandth time, and Rensa decided a consolation drink was in order. The sun was just beginning to set and they hadn’t traveled far that day, but Link had no stronger arguments and slid onto a barstool while Rensa ordered two pints of ale. 

“That son of a bitch, I can’t believe he’s _still_ managing to avoid us,” Rensa growled, gritting his teeth.

“I know. I think he has to know he’s being pursued. I mean, it’s been long enough,” Link pointed out.

The bartender returned with two foaming ales and slid them across the bar into their waiting hands. Link rolled his eyes as Rensa raised his tankard to the woman behind the bar and took a long drink.

“Yeah,” Rensa agreed, “you’re right. We’re going up the gorge clearing nests and collecting those bounties, but ultimately…”

“We’re following his steps,” Link finished.

“Are you two talking about Alistair?” An unfamiliar voice piped up.

Their attention snapped to the barkeep, who was wiping out a glass. She was a human woman with dark hair. Their slack jawed expressions must have spoken for themselves.

“Yeah, he was in here last night. He talked about being followed after a few too many drinks and begged me to lie if anyone came in asking about him.” She paused.  
“But then he wouldn’t stop trying to grab my hand, bragging about his military job, and offering me a seat on his face.” She shook her head with a scoff. “Anyway, I know where he is.”

Link and Rensa exchanged a look before facing her again.

“And where’s that?”

She leaned in close, ample cleavage visible due to her low cut dress. Link reflexively tilted backward, keeping his eyes trained on her face. 

“Well, he said I should tell you that he continued North into the Hebra mountains. But _really_ he’s headed east towards Hyrule field.”

Link turned to Rensa, catching his eye, which was difficult with the bent over bartender so close by.

“Finish these and head out?” He gestured to his ale. “We’re ending this,” Link stated with finality.

Rensa looked ready to argue, but then thought the better of it.

“You’re right.” He lifted his tankard towards Link, who clanked his against it. They chugged their ales, dropping the cups at nearly the same time (Rensa beat him by a hair.) 

“Thank you for the tip…” Rena paused, waiting for the woman to provide her name. 

“Mina.”

“It was a pleasure, Mina.”

Link rolled his eyes, standing and grabbing Rensa by the back of his shirt.

“Yes, thank you, Mina.” 

Link dropped two red rupees and she grinned widely.

“For the ales and the advice.”

“Oh, and, uh, his horse is an Arabian. Real rare around these parts,” she added with a hopeful lilt to her tone.

Rensa gave her a dashing smile and handed her two more red rupees.

“Have a real good night, Mina.”

Link was eventually able to drag Rensa away and they left the tavern and mounted their horses, taking off east. Epona seemed to be enjoying the run and so did Gunter, Rensa’s chestnut bay. The men had to stop to piss in a field an hour and a half later, but that was to be expected.

They hurried back on their steeds and continued onward until they reached another inn. It was now nearing midnight, and Link owed it to Epona to stop and rest. They rode into the stable and dismounted, handing over their reins to stable hands. Link followed Rensa to the stable master. It was Rensa’s turn to pay, so he stood back a distance and took a quick look around. 

In a stable near him was an unfamiliar breed of horse. It was pure white and its tail was high on its body. It had a distinctly grandiose air, unlike the sturdier breeds native to Hyrule. He got the attention of a nearby stable hand.

“What sort of horse is this?”

“An Arabian,” she answered wistfully. “I’d only ever heard of them until now. Beautiful, isn’t it?” 

Link nodded an awkward affirmative and thanked her as he returned to Rensa’s side.

“His horse is here. We have to check the tavern,” he muttered.

“Alright. Let’s go.”

They walked together to the nearby building and made eye contact for a brief moment. Link broke it as he turned to open the door. He slid his right hand into his pocket and began rolling the time stone between his fingers preemptively as he went first through the doorway.

A tall man with long blond hair was facing away from them at the bar. He was sitting calmly, not drawing any attention to himself. Rensa and Link nodded to each other and flanked him on either side. He must have heard them coming, because he whipped around to face them, drawing his sword at the same time.

The man that turned around looked nothing like Link. All he’d heard from his companion was that he was the spitting image of this person; he looked over at Rensa for answers, but Rensa’s expression evolved from shocked and confused to affronted.

“Alistair?” Link tried, and the man raised his sword.

“I won’t go without a fight,” he spat.

There was a moment of silent tension as Link and Alistair sized each other up, a bead of sweat forming on the ridge of the stranger’s brow as his gaze flickered between his flanking assailants. 

“You’re not him!” Rensa bellowed. 

Alistair jumped at that, glaring towards Rensa with dangerous, bright eyes. The few other patrons of the bar scattered like a flock of startled birds and the bartender had long since disappeared. Link returned his attention to his friend, surprised.

The other man’s usually pleasant demeanor was twisted into a visage of pain, grief, and betrayal. His dark eyes screwed shut and Rensa grit his teeth as he turned away in disgust, as if he couldn’t look at the criminal any longer.

“Link, don’t let this fuck get away.”

Rensa’s voice had taken on a dark, dangerous quality that Link had never heard from his friend. It made his hair stand on end. Link, still silent, took a closer look at the man, who raised his sword higher, staring back. The imposter turned white as a sheet, as if he’d seen a ghost. Finally, he spoke.

“You look just like him.”

“Like who? The real Alistair?” Link asked frankly.

The man just nodded dumbly in response. Rensa’s eyes shot open again, expression morphing into shocked realization.

“You’re Duggan,” Rensa stated incredulously. “Eddard Duggan.”

He whipped his head towards Rensa, jaw dropping, eyes darting between them like a cornered animal.

“Is it true you wear his tags?” Link inquired bluntly. 

“You were under his command. He probably fell and you picked the tags off his body.”

The look on Duggan’s face made Link certain he was being confronted with the truth.

“Why would you do that? What could you possibly gain from that?” Rensa muttered, not necessarily expecting an answer. 

Link had had enough. He flexed the fingers of his left hand while he focused on the stone between his right fingers. A large, multicolored sword materialized in his free hand. It was iridescent, shining with colors of every visible spectrum.

Rensa stood aside, fuming. Link could handle this battle.

Once Duggan realized he was summoning a weapon, he leapt to his feet on the offensive. The great fairy sword Link had conjured was heavy, but with his silver gauntlets, it was easily manageable. 

Link turned the thick blade to block an incoming flurry of swipes before turning it again and putting all his energy into swinging the massive blade at his aggressor. Duggan blocked the incoming attack; the resulting clash of metal made Link’s teeth ache. Link pulled back, observing his opponent, blood rushing in his ears as his heart raced.

Link held his ground, waiting for Duggan to react. The other man was already drenched in sweat, blinking wildly as it ran into his eyes.

“You want to know why I stole his tags? Because Alistair was a _fuck._ I should have been commander. I took his commander’s tags and got out before I died like a fool to a lost cause like him.”

“That’s enough.” Link ground out, readying his blade.

“You didn’t make commander because you drank on duty, Ed,” Rensa spat out.

“No, no,” Duggan argued, waving his sword wildly as he spoke. “That’s bullshit. He had everyone charmed because of his chiseled fucking face and his silver tongue. How else does a 23 year old make commander before me? Because he was a snake. And I bet you are, too.” 

He spat at Link’s feet. Furious adrenaline rushed through his veins in a way he’d never experienced. It was hard to catch his breath. After an impossibly loud silence, Rensa cried aloud in frustration.

“I’ll be outside. You can handle this worm,” he grit out through his clenched jaw as he exited the tavern, slamming the door behind him.

It’s true that Link was usually the cooler one of the two. He was usually unflappable. But now, inexplicably, he was drunk with fury. Link hadn’t ever felt a true emotional connection to Alistair; in fact, he was hardly more than a name, but somehow, he felt the same grief he had experienced when he was sent back in time, when Navi left, when he left the kokiri forest for the last time. A distinct feeling of loss gnawed at his gut and left him hollow.

All thoughts faded from Link’s mind as he swiped his sword at Duggan with an animalistic snarl; the other man laughed darkly as he dodged backward out of range, deflecting the attack with his narrow blade. The clash of metal rang in Link’s ears as he regained his footing deftly, never taking his eyes off of his opponent. Fighting monsters, he realized, did not do much for his impulse control. For most of his existence, he had been fighting for his life, aiming to kill. It was hard to hold himself back now when every instinct he had was screaming at him to gut his adversary.

“Short temper. I wonder what the perfect commander would think: his only son, wielding a rainbow sword and dancing with his rival.”

The other man bared his teeth smugly and spat again at Link’s feet, narrowly missing a boot as the younger man shifted aside. Rage welled up within him and he swore he could nearly smell monster’s blood in the air; a sickening sweetness that made you dizzy as a reward for keeping your life. He wanted to see this man bleed.

“You were never his rival.” The low, growling voice that came from his throat wasn’t his.

Blinded by bloodlust, Link fiercely swung his saber toward Duggan without warning. When he attempted to block the incoming slice, the sharpened edges of their blades met. Duggan’s man-made weapon was no match for Link’s otherworldly forge and broke into several pieces, fragments flying through the air.

Link felt a sharp pain in his right eye and he yelped aloud, as did Duggan, who had a number of large chunks protruding from his hip and side. He was immobilized, at least. Link’s eye stung like mad and he could feel a good deal of blood flowing down his cheek. He dropped his large sword at his side and headed to the door without hesitation. He could hear the other man whimpering and crying out over his shoulder, but paid it no mind; the rushing in his ears was louder as he burst through the tavern door.

Rensa was leaning against the wall a few feet away, springing up at the sight of Link staggering through the threshold.

“Holy shit, what happened in there? Are you alright?”

Rensa was slack jawed, staring at Link’s injured eye as the color drained from his face. 

“The royal guard unit. Where is it?” Link asked. 

“About ten miles from here.”

“Ballsy of him,” Link remarked. “They have medics there, right?”

“Absolutely,” Rensa answered, finally snapping out of his daze. “Wait, what about Ed?”  
Link jerked his head towards the tavern and they hurried inside, Rensa scrambling to grab their still wailing prisoner. He tied Duggan’s hands together swiftly as Link grabbed the tags around his neck. He pulled them into view, reading them with a mournful sigh. _Commander Alistair Reidel._ He held them in the palm of his hand and yanked on the chain, breaking it easily. He stashed the tags and chain into his pocket safely.

“We have to get this man on a horse,” Rensa sighed, “and he’s not going to walk. And we need to hurry because of that fucking eye, buddy.”

“Yeah. Well, let’s do it.”

Link swiftly grabbed the underside of Duggan’s right arm, while Rensa grabbed the left. They half dragged, half carried him outside to his horse. Rensa grabbed the Arabian’s reins and tied them around the horn of his saddle. They lifted the captive onto his horse and placed his tied hands on the saddle’s horn.

“You’ll get to see a doctor if you hold on for just a while longer,” Rensa urged. Duggan nodded deliriously; he didn’t seem in any state to try and escape. He then turned to Link.  
“Go ahead. Now. You’re still bleeding. Follow the road north.”

Link nodded, climbing onto Epona as quickly as he could. He was already somewhat affected by the blood loss. As if sensing danger, Epona took off before he finished commanding her. He stroked her mane gently, his eye throbbing with pain at each hoofbeat.

Only a few more miles. She ran at top speed, as if she knew her master’s life depended on it.

It was around fifteen minutes later that he arrived at the outpost, nearly falling off Epona and stumbling towards the front gate. A few guards ran up to him to help, catching him as he lost consciousness.

When he awoke again, he was extremely light headed, annoyed by the cotton wrapped tightly around his face. He reached up to touch it but his hand was slapped away. He opened his exposed eye to see Rensa at his bedside, looking worried sick. His face was pallid and his hands shaky.

“I can’t believe you’re okay.”

“My eye,” Link murmured, bringing his hand up again before Rensa caught it, sighing shortly in annoyance.

“You have to stop doing that. Link, you almost died. The only thing that saved you was…” Rensa paused with a pained grimace. “The shrapnel was left in your eye. It stopped the bleeding.”

“That’s why you were looking at me so weird.” 

Rensa cut his darkened eyes at Link, trying not to smile.

“That’s not funny.”

“Is it gone?” Link asked abruptly, causing Rensa to wince.

“Yes. Wait, the sword piece or your eye?” He flinched again. “It’s a yes either way.”

They were interrupted by a sharp rap on the door to the clinic. Link sat up as a man in ornate armor stepped through the threshold. 

“Commander Greyson.” He stated his name as if it were a fact. “You two apprehended the man disgracing the name of a fallen commander of the royal guard. He had quite a bounty of petty crime added up over the years, so congratulations.”

Greyson gave a forced smile as he approached Rensa and gave him a sack full of rupees. He then paused awkwardly.

“Rensa. As a former member of the royal guard--”

“Current. I’ve taken a sabbatical.”

“Right,” he pursed his lips in undisguised repugnance. “As a _current_ member of the royal guard, you must know that actions that lead you to protect more than 500 civilians are deemed worthy of a royal commendation. The citizens of western Tabantha are safer due to your actions at the gorge.”

Greyson sounded bored, but Rensa puffed out his chest in pride, tired face cracking into his more characteristic sunny grin.

“Should you choose to appear, there will be a short ceremony in honor of the both of you in one month at Hyrule Castle,” the commander finished flatly.

Rensa could hardly contain his excitement, smile widening further although Link would have thought it impossible.

“Thank you, commander. We’ll be sure to be there.”

Greyson gave another stiff smile in response, exiting the way he came. When the door closed behind him, Rensa let out an excited whoop.

“We’re heroes! Can you believe it?” He laughed aloud, running a hand through his tightly coiled hair.

Link gave him a wry smile before speaking.

“Truly, though, Rensa. How do you still have a job?”

“Childhood friends with the captain’s nephew. All I have to do is go back.”

Link shook his head with a small laugh. As more and more memories from the previous night returned to him, the slight smile on his face faded away. He and Rensa had only had very surface level conversations besides the one of their meeting. Link wasn’t big on sharing personal information, and Rensa, in his infinite understanding, respected that. But now that their largest obstacle had been surmounted, the questions that lingered had only become more enticing. Expression serious, he looked over at his friend.

“How did you know who he was?”  
Out of context, it made little sense, but Rensa likely had the same things weighing on his mind as Link did. Rensa’s face fell, the triumph of the commendation quickly replaced by troubled reminiscence. 

“Duggan? Well… He was my dad’s drinking buddy. They were in the same regiment under Alistair. They would get wasted and come back to our house, so I know his face very well.”

At that, Rensa’s eyes clouded slightly, deep in thought. Whatever he was recalling was obviously deeply traumatizing. Link wished he could say something, anything, to comfort his friend, but words failed him as usual. When he was finally able to speak, his voice was quiet.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Link said lamely, sensing Rensa’s distress. The other man just shook his head.

“No, you should know about the scum we finally caught. It’s only fair.” Rensa tried to smile, but couldn’t force it over the obvious revulsion on his face. He took a deep breath before continuing.  
“Duggan and my father would spend almost their entire paychecks in the tavern and sometimes would come back to our house to drink more. Sometimes when my dad would pass out, he would go into the bedroom where my mom was sleeping and... “ Rensa trailed off, screwing his eyes shut. There was a beat of thick silence that they both choked on.  
“Anyway, I’m sorry I left you alone with him. I just couldn’t stand looking at him any longer. It’s not like I wanted it to be Alistair who was doing all that horrible shit, I just thought.. Maybe he was alive, and maybe we could help him.” Link just nodded, swallowing thickly. “When I would come to the training grounds to watch, if he had a spare moment, Alistair would give me a quick sword fighting lesson. He would give me advice. Sometimes his wife Elissa would bake ‘too much’ bread and he would give me some. I don’t know if it was just because I was a kid and it was from them, but it was some of the best bread I’ve ever had,” Rensa laughed wistfully. “Soon I didn’t want to be a guard because of my dad anymore.” 

A comfortable silence descended before Link broke it, asking Rensa softly,  
“What do you know about Elissa?”

Rensa smiled sadly.  
“Unfortunately, not much. I only met her a handful of times. But she was kind. And beautiful, with red hair. I’m sorry, Link. I wish I could tell you more.”

Link gave a small smile back.  
“It’s okay.”

_It’s more than I could have ever learned on my own._

Another calm quiet came over them for a moment, but Rensa was the one to break it this time.  
“So, when do you think you’ll be ready to travel to the castle? This ceremony is going to be awesome, right?”

Rensa cracked a familiar grin, but Link couldn’t return it. All at once, exhaustion overwhelmed him.

“I hope so, we’ve earned it. Go ahead, I’ll meet you there. I should probably rest a while longer.”

Rensa’s grin faltered slightly before he replied.

“I get it. A lot has happened. You probably need some time to think. I hope... I didn’t say anything too weird just now.”

Rensa chuckled awkwardly, looking down at the cracked tile floor beneath his feet.

“You didn’t. Thanks for telling me about them.”

Smiling brilliantly, Rensa reached out and ruffled Link’s hair in a rare display of affection before getting to his feet. There was an uncharacteristic sadness in his eyes as he began towards the door, but Link knew it was only temporary. Rensa remained one of the strongest people he’d ever met.

“I’ll see you at the ceremony,” Rensa called over his shoulder as he left.

Although he had been barely sitting up, Link nearly collapsed back into the cot still shaky from blood loss. It was only midday when he drifted off, and he awoke with a start early morning. He resisted the urge to touch the bandage as he used his fingers to comb his hair around it. He found his tunic and boots stashed in a cubby underneath his cot and slowly got dressed.

In his hubris, he had shattered a sword and lost an eye. All because he had gotten his hopes up and pursued a man he knew wasn’t his father from the beginning. Why had he done it? He gave a short, dry laugh as he fastened his gauntlets and gathered his belongings. Ultimately, he knew why. 

He had pioneered Rensa’s quest to uncover the mystery of an old friend to escape his own pain. He ran for 4 years until fate had struck him half blind and offered him the perfect opportunity to return. He had to go to Hyrule Castle.

He tried to pay the head medic that cleared him but was refused; apparently it had already been taken care of. He reminded himself to thank Rensa later yet again.

Link rode solo for the first time in years. It was refreshing, but a bit lonely. He hoped Rensa understood. He was 19 when they started and 23 now. They had spent years chasing a ghost. To be fair, the countless smaller bounties they’d amassed and an upcoming commendation as heroes of the Tabantha region were certainly consolations, there was a void in Link’s chest that couldn’t be filled by rupees or medals.

He spent two weeks moving toward Central Hyrule. He spent every night camping on the road, hiding in the brush from the rare stalchildren that still sometimes roamed the wilderness at night, but after a one particularly solid day of travel east, both he and Epona needed some legitimate rest. He stopped at an inn with a stable, dropped off his horse, and headed into the bar for sustenance. It was pleasantly quiet compared to most bars he’d been to. The light was kept low and a bard gently plucked a lute as a few scattered customers ate and drank. 

Link took a seat alone at the bar and ordered his usual drink alongside a rare steak. The ale came first and he couldn’t help but sip it as he turned towards the bard. The music coming from the instrument was comforting. It seemed familiar somehow. Before he knew it, he had finished his tankard and called for another. His steak was still coming, claimed the barkeep.

Two drinks hit him harder than he expected and he eventually was outright staring at the bard, who had the good grace to pretend not to notice. He was a young man with messy blond hair that stuck out in angles reminiscent of another musician from Link’s past. Narrow hips and wide shoulders with lean muscles on an overall small frame; he was even built the same as Sheik.

Link wasn’t sure what high level magic it took to change the shape of her body, but Zelda and Sheik clearly had two separate... _curvatures,_ so to speak. The skin tightness of the clothes they wore sure highlighted that, Link reminisced with a subtle shiver.

He was pulled from his trance when a pair of eyes flickered over to him. So he had noticed. Oops. Link awkwardly faced the bar and ordered another ale. He was half finished with it before his steak finally came. He dug into it ravenously before someone took a seat in the barstool beside him.

“Do you have any requests?”

Link turned, mouth full. He’d been caught unawares. He swallowed swiftly, taking a long swig of ale. He coughed clumsily afterward.

“Uh, nope.”

“The way you were staring made me think you did.”

Link gave an awkward laugh.

“No,” he repeated. “I’m sorry. You just look like someone I used to know.”

The bard leaned closer and gave a husky chuckle.

“Seems like it was someone you knew well.”

“Not exactly,” Link replied before digging into his steak yet again.

“Someone you wanted to know well, then.”

Link must have made a face because the other man laughed and backed off.

“My name’s Morah, by the way.”

“Link.”

He fell quiet and Morah played a few melodic notes as he finished up his steak, but when Link was drinking the last half of his ale, he felt a hand on his left knee. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to see the bard boldly gazing back. He dropped his empty cup on the bar in front of him; Link could feel the alcohol in his head as he carefully laid a gloved hand on top of the warm one on his leg.

“Come with me to my room.”

Link just stared back, his one eye blinking owlishly. He hadn’t paid for a room yet. How convenient. He felt the alcohol in his head as he nodded to the shorter man, who took his hand with a smile. Link dropped a red rupee on the bar and allowed himself to be led toward the guest rooms. He waited for Morah to unlock the door in front of them, then followed him closely inside. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Morah set to work on Link’s belt. He stood still as Morah kissed a trail along his jawline. Link closed his eyes and ran his fingers through Morah’s coarse hair, exhaling shakily. His belt came undone and was cast aside; his tunic followed soon afterward. They both shed the rest of their clothes as Link dimmed the lamp by the bed. He took a seat and expected Morah to do the same, but instead, he got on his knees beside the bed.

Link hissed through his teeth as a warm, wet mouth enveloped him. His eye slid shut as he first imagined crimson eyes looking up at him, then crystal blue. He bucked his hips inadvertently as Morah gripped his waist to steady him. Link tangled his fingers in Morah’s hair again, moaning softly.

The room was spinning around him as he gripped the other man’s hair tightly, dragging him upward. Link kissed him hard as he trailed a hand down Morah’s stomach, but his chest ached fiercely. Though he did nothing to stop himself, he knew that even now, body entangled with another man, his thoughts only led back to her. 

Eyes screwed shut, he listened to the low moans in his ear as Morah thrust into his fist; he imagined those red eyes in the low light of Zora’s Domain, his breath freezing in the air between them as he stared enraptured, Zoras trapped frozen beneath their feet; crimson gaze as intense as the lava in the chasm that separated them in the depths of Mount Doom; a meaningful look from the shadows of an emerald green tree within the Lost Woods.

Sheik intrigued him in the same way Princess Zelda had, though he was undeniably surprised to discover they were the same person. Those eyes, whether they be crimson or sapphire blue, held a frightening intelligence that was never threatening but instead drew him in like a moth to a flame. He thought of nothing else as he lost himself in his memories and Morah’s body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In Twilight Princess, the ghost knight you meet is OoT Link and he's missing an eye and also extremely tall. That's where these ideas come from lol. I hope you've enjoyed it so far.


	13. Chapter 13

Link awoke before his partner, eye bleary with sleep. He shook his head as he slid out of the disheveled bed, getting dressed rapidly. He froze, horrified, when Morah rolled over, but thankfully, he was still asleep. Link thanked the goddesses as he threw on the rest of his gear and made his escape.

He and Epona rode for hours as he tried unsuccessfully not to think about the implications of sleeping with a man that reminded him of the masculine form taken by the woman he loved. They crested a hill and the faraway silhouette of Hyrule Castle came into view. Link couldn’t help but sigh as nostalgia overcame him. 

The ceremony was coming up. Link wondered idly what royal guard captain would present him with a gaudy award. Really, he just wanted to make it to Hyrule Castle to get his eye examined again. He’d been changing his bandage regularly but it was now starting to heal and he was ready to assess the damage with the advice of the best doctor available. As a (finally) certified hero, he should easily be entitled to that.

Soon enough, he rode into town and was escorted to the royal guard’s clinic when he gave his name to the gate guard while Epona was taken to the guard’s stables. This time, he was conscious when the medic peeled all of the dressing away from his face and peered closely into his wound. 

As Rensa said, his eye had been too heavily damaged to save. It had been removed, and ugly, bruised stitches held together his upper eyelid, stretching upward towards his right eyebrow. Link caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection off the medic’s glasses and cringed wearily. 

What a sight. His face was cleaned thoroughly and gently and because it was no longer bleeding, he graduated from wearing cotton and gauze to a thick black eyepatch. It was shaped to cover every stitch for maximum protection. 

After taking an herbal antibiotic concoction, Link thanked the medic, who refused payment. She insisted the injury had occurred in “the line of duty.”

“I’m not in the royal guard,” Link argued, thrusting rupees toward her, but she shook her head and shoved them back at him.

“You’ve done us a service. Now take your leave.”

Frustrated, he obeyed. He exited the royal guard’s keep, jamming his hands into his pockets as he wandered toward the closest inn. He booked a room and went straight to it, although it was only early evening. He locked the door behind him and fell into bed, laying on his left side.

The new eyepatch was far more comfortable than the mess of bandages he had before. He thought about what the medic had told him. The stitches were meant to stay in for a few more weeks, but the healing was progressing well. It could be much worse.

But still… he couldn’t believe he’d let that degenerate get the best of him. He lost his temper, and then his eye. It could easily be seen as a form of divine punishment. He rolled onto his back, letting out a deep sigh. There were just two days left to go before the ceremony. He didn’t remember where they were supposed to meet, but he knew how to find out.

The next day, he slept in (having awoken only once that night) and went to the guard’s chosen bar at sundown. He found a comfortably placed table and waited. Sure enough, after less than an hour, Rensa walked in. Link waved, and a huge grin cracked the other’s face.

They ate and drank, but the ceremony was coming up in less than 24 hours and Link had a sinking feeling. He retired early, promising to meet Rensa at the keep in their finest gear at midmorning.

That night, Link hardly slept. The foreboding feeling rooted in his chest only deepened over time; he awoke three times in a cold sweat before it was early morning and the birds were beginning to chirp. He threw off his blankets and went to request a hot bath from the innkeeper.

After his hair was thoroughly rinsed, he scrubbed the rest of his body of that night’s feverish sweat and summoned the finest made clothing he owned from the time stone. The tunic he chose was a deep green color lined with chain mail and light brown leather. It was far from opulent, but it was extremely well made. With a long period of hesitation, he decided not to wear his hat, stashing it protectively within the stone.

He met Rensa outside of the guard’s keep. The other man was dressed in his officer’s armor, chin high as he greeted Link with a clap on the back. They went through the doors of the keep together and were ushered quickly into the castle. Perplexed, Link glanced over at Rensa, who was staring straight ahead, looking incredibly nervous. It seemed his initial excited energy had devolved into deep anxiety. A sheen of sweat was beginning to break out over his sepia forehead. Link said nothing, but quirked a smile and rested a gentle and reassuring hand on his friend’s shoulder for a moment as they walked.

They were led into a grand marble hallway with a number of massive columns covered in intricate mosaics and Link spied a pair of gigantic, looming doors before them that only stretched taller as they were guided closer and closer. Link’s eye widened in panic when he realized they opened to the throne room. They were directed through the huge doors, but the guards stopped there, leaving them to complete the agonizingly long walk forward alone.

“Why are we here?” He whispered to Rensa urgently as they continued walking down the carpeted aisle. He stared at his feet, internally screaming in terror. A few high ranking officials of the guard and a handful of royal council members stood off to the side, watching their approach.

“Do you not know what a royal commendation is?”

Link bit his lip but did not answer, waiting another few steps before glancing up ahead.

It was Zelda. She sat alone before them in the queen’s throne. Her hair had grown much longer; it cascaded down her shoulders to the middle of her back in golden waves. Her gown was long sleeved, form fitting, and made of blue silk; its collar extended halfway up her neck and the bodice was decorated with scattered blue and white jewels. She looked pale and bored, eyes distant.

He observed her somberly for a moment before she looked toward them and he dropped his gaze again, counting carpet fibers until he and Rensa finally reached the foot of the throne. Link bowed his head as if in reverence and held his breath as they both kneeled deeply before her. He had intended to see her again, yes, but not like this. He had no time to prepare, emotionally or psychologically. He was jerked from his reverie when she finally spoke.

“The two of you have served our territory of Tabantha well. An estimated two thousand civilians and their descendents are safer because of your work in the gorge. The kingdom thanks you,” a painfully familiar voice rang out, clear as the chiming of a bell. 

There was a pause and a shiver went down Link’s spine. She hadn’t recognized him yet, but he knew there was no avoiding it. He breathed evenly through his nose with great difficulty as he closely examined the marble flooring beneath his knee.

“My father was initially supposed to conduct this ceremony, but unfortunately became encumbered by other matters. He sends his regards. Please give your names as I present you with these medals as tokens of our gratitude in his place.” She sounded as though she were reciting a script, but Rensa had regained his exuberance and had enough for the three of them. 

Zelda stood and lifted a medal off of a velvet pillow held by a well dressed squat man. She turned toward Rensa first, who raised his head with a pearly grin. Pride effused from him but it was endearing, not offensive. Rensa had never been one for true arrogance.

“Rensa Osheno, officer of the royal guard,” he announced, voice slightly deeper than usual. If he weren’t so sick from anticipation Link would have been amused.

“Thank you for your service, officer Osheno.”

“It was my honor, your grace.” 

He ducked his head slightly as she slipped the medal around his neck with a small polite smile. She turned to pick up the other medal and Link knew his time was coming. She approached and he took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as she stopped in front of him expectantly.

“Link Reidel.” 

He lifted his head, meeting her eye for the first time. 

“It was also my honor.”

Her gaze flickered to his eyepatch as his did to her sizable wedding ring. Her already pale face lost yet another shade of color. She forced a diplomatic smile as she placed the medal around his neck, her gaze pointed. 

“Unfortunately, the same matter that currently consumes my father also requires my attention, so I must ask to be excused. Thank you two again for your _heroic_ and _courageous_ actions.”

Link blinked at her incredibly purposeful word choice as she turned and left without a second glance. He watched her leave until a very oblivious Rensa guffawed when she was out of earshot.

“All that pomp and circumstance for literally a 3 minute ceremony. I’ll never understand the court.”   
He laughed aloud and clapped a brown hand on Link’s shoulder.  
“Well done, soldier,” Rensa gave him a toothy grin, but then paused.  
“Was it just me or did she seem real weird talking to you? Did you forget to bathe?”

Link shoved the taller man away as Rensa dug his elbow into his ribs lightly.

“It was just you.”

He tried to mimic Rensa’s playful tone, but couldn’t quite; a weight was forming on his chest and he was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. Luckily, Rensa didn’t seem to notice as he waved to an unfamiliar man across the throne room. He thought he may have a chance to escape before Rensa grabbed one of his arms and dragged him over to an official of the guard.

“Link, this is Captain Bellard; Captain, this is my travel companion, Link.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Bellard nodded towards Link, then turned his attention back to Rensa.  
“So, officer Osheno, when are you coming back to the guard?”

“I was thinking now would be preferable, that is, if you’ll have me,” Rensa responded with a grin. He glanced over at Link who just stared back blandly.   
“What about my friend Reidel here?”

“There’s always a place for someone with a royal commendation on the guard,” Captain Bellard chortled, “not to mention your father’s credentials, Link.”

“Glad to hear it,” Rensa responded, elbowing Link lightly. 

Link cut his eye at his friend, but eventually spoke up.

“It would be an honor to be considered for the guard. Thank you, sir.”  
Link smiled thinly at both of them but suddenly became overwhelmed by the heaviness gripping him.  
“Please excuse me.”

He ignored the questioning look from Rensa as he exited the throne room and tried to follow the hallway to the main entrance. Instead, he came to a familiar hedge maze. Link stopped in front of it briefly. He shouldn’t go through it. That’s where the private courtyards are. That’s where hers is. He argued with himself for hardly a second before rushing forward through the maze without abandon. He had to dash behind one of the perfectly trimmed shrubs clumsily as a guard rounded a corner, but soon, he came to a familiar gate and it was, once again, unlocked.

He let himself into the courtyard, closing and locking the gate behind him. There were more flowers than before, he noticed, and even more ivy. Time changes all. But he already knew that. He stared at it for a moment, knowing he shouldn’t climb it to get to the balcony. It was blocked off by a thick weatherproof curtain so that the room was obscured; there was a strong chance it’s not even hers anymore. Marriage changes things like that, after all.

He stopped, looking up at the morning sky. A queen likely had duties all day, but he couldn’t bear to wait. Anxiety consumed him as he thumbed the stone in his pocket and summoned the ocarina of time. He didn’t prefer to use such tools, but desperate times called for desperate measures. He played the song of double time, watching resolutely as the sun finished its arc across the sky in mere seconds.

Night had fallen and she was surely in her room by now. Link scoured the ground around him for pebbles, picking all of them up that he saw. He took a deep breath before throwing one at the heavy curtain. It made an audible thump against the fabric and he stopped in place with bated breath. He thought he may have heard movement inside and again considered the very real possibility that it was now someone else’s room, but couldn’t stop himself from casting another pebble towards the fabric anyway. 

Suddenly, the curtains were thrown open by a very confused and frustrated Zelda, still dressed in her silk gown from earlier, who froze immediately upon seeing him. The annoyance melted off her face into something unreadable as Link dropped the rest of the pebbles at his feet gracelessly. She steeled her expression before speaking.

“I was glad to see you accomplished in Tabantha what we discussed 4 years ago, but you were not meant to take an obligatory ceremony as an invitation to my bedchambers.”

“I swear that I came to you the moment I set foot in Hyrule Castle Town again. A lot happened while I was gone, to both of us, and I didn’t think you’d...” Link trailed off, wincing. 

“Don’t act like you were thinking of me.” Her voice was cold. “You came back for your reward today, that’s all.”

His heart tightened in his chest and his shoulders dipped at her cutting words. Looking down at the soft grass under his feet, his vision blurred slightly and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“Princess, I never stopped thinking of you.” 

He said it so quietly he wasn’t sure if she heard, but as he looked upward, her expression had softened. The anger that had made her features so sharp had withered away, leaving only melancholy behind. She said nothing, so he spoke again.

“Why were you alone today? Where’s the king?”

“He was taken ill.” She was quiet, voice tinged with more than a hint of worry.

A pause.

“Where’s your king?”

She looked at him coolly from the balcony, but her face was cast in shadow from the low light.

“Faroh just left for the desert a few days ago. I’m here with my father because he’s been unwell.”

There was another silence as Link worked up his nerve. Finally, he spoke.

“May I come up?”

He watched her, holding his breath as she said nothing but eventually gave a small nod as she turned and retreated inside the room. Link dashed over to the ivy and climbed up before she could change her mind.

He hopped onto the balcony, palms sweating, and walked inside just as Zelda finished locking the door. He took a deep breath and began talking to her back.

“I’m sorry. My friend and I were clearing the gorge of monsters until… I heard that my father may be alive.”

She stayed facing the door silently as Link continued, hands shaking. 

“I followed him for years, killing monsters along the way, but It turned out to be an imposter. I heard you were married and I…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I spent 4 years chasing a ghost and abandoned you. Zelda, I love you, and I’m sorry.”

She didn’t move or answer for a tense moment. Unsure and full of butterflies, he took a small step toward her and she turned to face him, eyes damp.

“I thought you were dead.”

He stopped in his tracks, surprised.

“What?”

“You were gone for so long, I thought you had to be dead.”

“Zelda, I’m so sor--”

“Do you have any idea how that felt? Thinking I’d never see you again?”

She took several large steps toward him, teeth gritted. Tears began falling freely down her cheeks.

“I needed you.”

She broke down into quiet, racked weeping as he, taken aback, closed the gap between them and took her into his arms. His eye fluttered closed as she buried her face in the curve of his collarbone, now too small to reach her favorite spot in the crook of his neck.

“I love you,” he repeated softly against the long shell of her ear.

Still choked with sobs, she beat a fist lightly against his chest.

“You _left_ me.”

“I’m sorry,” he stated calmly, voice gentle. Her cries soon quieted and he pressed his lips to her temple sweetly. She grasped the front of his tunic tightly above his racing heart and pulled back to look at him. Her gaze shifted to the eyepatch as an agonizingly sorrowful look overtook her. Releasing his shirt, she brought a gloved hand upward to caress his right cheek.

“What happened to your eye?” Her voice was hardly above a whisper.

Link gave a small laugh, looking away.

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m sure we both have long stories to tell.”

“Doubtless.”

He glanced back towards her face, watching as she dug a finger into her high collar uncomfortably with a short cough.

“Why are you still fully dressed? You can’t possibly be able to take that off by yourself.”

The way she cut her eyes at him confirmed that she couldn’t. He returned the look with a small affectionate smile. 

“Let me help you.”

She took a step back with a deep sigh and turned her back to him. She swept her long hair over one shoulder, making the buttons of the gown easily accessible.

“I usually have a maid to help me.”

“Is Impa usually awake this late?”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke.

“Impa returned to Kakariko village as its chief.”

His heart fell.

“Why?” 

He began unbuttoning the gown’s high neck. She let out a sigh as it slackened; the thick silk seemed oppressively stiff and tight around her throat.

“She was my nursemaid. After marriage, her position expired,” Zelda paused for a moment. “Her people asked her to return as its leader. I think she always missed her home. We write often, but I haven’t seen her since she left.”

“How long has it been?”

“Three years.”

Three years of relative isolation. Guilt gnawed a pit in his stomach and he couldn’t help himself as he blurted out,

“You’re not alone anymore.”

Link held his breath before he noticed a deepening blush creeping towards the tips of her ears. He tried not to notice that subtle shiver when he brushed a finger against her bare flesh as he continued down the seemingly never ending stream of buttons. 

“I shouldn’t forgive you,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to.”

She said nothing at that. The dress, heavy with stones, shifted as it loosened and fell away from her slightly, exposing a large purple bite mark on the side of her neck previously hidden by the collar. He bit his lip harder as a hard lump formed in his throat. He diligently finished undoing the rest of the buttons before she looked at him over her shoulder wordlessly, deep blue eyes burning into his. He gazed desperately back, conflicted, before he couldn’t contain himself any longer. 

He bent towards her and kissed her longingly, heart aching with loneliness he’d felt for the past 4 years. His stomach twinged as he realized that, yes, she smelled of jasmine and rain as always, but now there was another dimension to her scent; a rich, incense like smell. Times really had changed.

She melted into his touch as he trailed his fingers up her back, pulling the collar of her dress down slightly. She jumped as he traced kisses along her cheek down to her neck, stopping at the nasty bruise. She made a small noise of shame and tortured pleasure as he covered every inch of the injury in careful kisses. A petite hand tangled in his hair, ruining his small ponytail.

“Link, I can’t,” Zelda breathed after an eternity. She dropped her hand, gasping as he sucked lightly at her neck, but the sensation didn’t last. He stopped, although every instinct in his body was screaming at him not to. He clenched his jaw for a moment before speaking, lips against the marked skin of her neck.

“If you are speaking as a free woman, a queen, I will respect your wishes. If you speak for the benefit of your husband alone, I cannot help but state my case.”

She stood frozen in his arms for what felt like hours before reaching up and running a hand through his hair again. He waited for a moment, then returned his former attention to her bruised throat as she let out a shallow moan. Zelda slowly began extricating her arms from their painfully tight sleeves as Link quickly dropped his gauntlets on the floor beside him, sliding his now exposed hands through the open slit in back of her dress and around her waist. Once her arms were free, she dropped the gem encrusted bodice of the dress along with her small silken gloves and was left bare; she shivered slightly from the chill coming off the castle stone, the feeling of Link’s hot mouth on her neck, and his calloused hands caressing her skin.

She kicked off the skirt of her gown and turned, naked, to face him. Link’s eye roamed her body in mixed appreciation and agony as he glanced over several more dark marks marring her light skin and carefully placed his own fingers over the fading bruises on her hips. He kissed her so gently she thought her heart may break. Fully clothed besides his uncovered wrists, he lifted and carried her to the bed, laying her perpendicular to its side. He undid his belt as she nipped his adam’s apple, eagerly tugging on his tunic. He was laughing as she pulled it over his head and threw it aside.

He was bigger and stronger than he was the last time they’d met, and seeing him shirtless now truly showed Zelda how much he’d grown. She brazenly ran her fingers down his chest to his defined abs as he stood between her knees, but he caught her hand in his. 

“I disappeared, and it was selfish.” He took a deep breath and continued, voice shaking faintly.  
“I never want to leave your side again. That’s why I’m applying to join the royal guard.”  
He ducked his head and brought her hand to his mouth, closing his eye reverently.

“You don’t have to do that,” Zelda expressed, but he shook his head and met her gaze.

“I exist to protect you. Ganon may be gone, but it’s like you said….”   
He leaned over her, propping himself up on an elbow and stroking her reddening face.   
“Most of the evil in the world is perpetrated by man.”

At that, Link tenderly pecked the bite mark on her neck once more, then planted a trail of kisses downward toward the scattered, nearly faded finger shaped bruises on her ribs, then further down to the clearer hand shaped marks on her hips. He kissed another trail down to her thigh halfway to her knee, but then paused. She shuddered with anticipation as he slowly traced his hands down to her knees and parted them.

“I promise to protect you from as much of that evil as I can.”

He spoke with finality, then placed a solid kiss on the inside of her knee. She ran a hand through his hair and he gave a small knowing smile before continuing downward, grazing her inner thigh with his teeth. She brought her other hand to his head, gasping as he buried his face between her thighs.

“I missed you so much,” she whined, grinding upward against a tongue making lazy, deliberate circles against her.

“Hmm?” He made a questioning sound as he continued his perfect rhythm. 

“Yes,” she moaned softly, breath audibly hitching. She gripped his hair with both hands and gave a short, mournful laugh that devolved into pants.  
“You left me for so long and came back with an _eyepatch…._”

Link scoffed and pulled away, slipping a finger into his mouth. After a moment, he withdrew it, unconsciously biting his lip in anticipation as she shivered beneath him.

“I’m sorry, your majesty,” he sighed forlornly, tracing his moistened digit gently against her.  
“Please, after an extended leave of absence, allow me to serve you now.”

Zelda gasped, crying out lightly as he slid his finger inside her, tongue resuming that sinfully slow pattern. Soon, she rode out a powerful climax that left her pulling his hair, begging for relief. He obeyed, pulling back, straightening, and undid his pants. She simply gazed at him expectantly, eyes half lidded with lust.

Link quickly wiped his chin, then held her wrists at her sides gently as he positioned himself against her. His right hand slid down her wrist toward her palm, interlacing their fingers for a short moment. His ice blue eye gazed defiantly into hers as he carefully took hold of the large ruby and gold wedding ring. He kissed her desperately, communicating silently exactly how much he’d missed her all this time, how he ached to be away from her, and as he thrust into her, cast the ring aside.

She moaned loudly into his mouth as they moved their hips in tandem; he felt himself going deeper and deeper with each thrust. He pressed his forehead against hers and looked between her two large, half-lidded cerulean eyes, fingers over the bruises on her sides.

“I love you,” he whispered again; she said nothing in return; her eyes slid closed as she leaned forward to kiss him again, gripping his muscular arms desperately with a quiet whine. 

“Never leave me,” Zelda pleaded between breathless kisses.

“Never,” Link echoed, kissing away the tears that welled up at the corners of her eyes.

She choked a sob as she placed her hands on either side of his face and rolled her hips into his, drawing out a deep growl. He pushed back and she gasped; he took the opportunity to kiss her, open mouthed and inelegant. He soon pulled back, panting, teeth gritted.

“Zelda, i’m going to--”

“Don’t stop,” she commanded, and he, deep inside of her, was in no position to refuse. 

Invigorated, Link kissed her again, speeding up their rhythm as she held him tightly. They climaxed together with a cacophony of moans, gasps, and whispered sweet nothings.

Afterward, they lay beside one another quietly, fingers interlaced. Zelda’s eyes were closed, but Link’s was open as he ran his free hand through her soft hair. They said nothing for a long time before Zelda spoke, voice low.

“There’s something I didn’t tell you when you awoke the Triforce of Wisdom. When I recalled my memories.”

Link waited silently for her to continue, watching her face and twisting a lock of her hair around a pointer finger.

“You said we didn’t fail because we sealed Ganon in the end. It’s not so simple.”

He stilled his hand. There was another extended silence. Her brow furrowed, eyes still shut.

“What do you mean?”

“I had to send you back in time twice, Link. You only remember the second.”

His mouth went dry.

“Why?”

She didn’t answer as she gently touched a small hand to his. There was a brief flash of light from the back of Link’s hand as the Triforce of Courage momentarily awoke.

He was overcome by an image of Zelda’s horrified face above his, spattered with blood. He desperately tried to reach up to wipe it away, but realized he couldn’t move his arm. It soon dawned on him that the blood wasn’t hers. Her lips were moving with urgency but he couldn’t hear anything over the deafening ringing in his ears.

Her eyes were wide with fear and tears clung to the ends of her long lashes. Some fell onto his cheek as the earth shook violently. She whipped her head towards the source of the chaos, the soft ends of her long locks brushing over his face. A vague outline of a massive creature stretched ominously before them; the stone tower shuddered precariously at each heavy step as it lurched closer.

As darkness crept in on the edges of his vision, he became acutely aware of his position. He was laying on the ground, his head tucked into the crook of Zelda’s elbow on her lap. He couldn’t feel much of anything anymore besides her body heat. He felt vaguely he may be laying in a puddle of something warm.

She looked back down at him, eyes full of desperate terror. 

_Link,_ he read her lips, _I’m sorry._

He tried to say her name but choked on something sticky. He coughed and a coppery liquid spilled from his mouth. She cradled his head carefully, hands shaking. His eyes slid fully shut; he couldn’t keep them open any longer. She leaned down and he felt soft, panicked exhales on his cheek as the center jewel of her tiara dug slightly into the side of his forehead.

After a moment, she pulled away and he was lowered gently to the stone floor. He stretched his fingers toward her blindly, frightened at her sudden absence. There was no response. 

_I’m going to die._

…

_I’m scared._

Hot tears pricked at his eyes and he coughed again, choking. Tears spilled unimpeded down his face, mixing with fresh blood until a small pair of hands gently lifted his head onto a lap again. He almost immediately stilled.

The booming footsteps, although slow, were terrifyingly near. 

A crystal clear tone pierced his dull, muffled surroundings. The Ocarina. There was still hope.

Link’s eye shot open once more and he gasped, relieved to swallow gulps of air unimpeded. He felt a sickening tightness in his chest, but he could move. It was over. Zelda opened her eyes at his outburst but gave no other outward reaction.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, but he reached for her, hands unsteady. She melted into his arms, wrapping hers around his neck as he choked a quiet sob. Her collarbone became wet with tears as they held each other without speaking. After a few minutes, Link pulled back to look at her, now calm, but left cheek tearstained.

“What else have you been shouldering alone?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. She wasn’t expecting that. Link, who had just experienced his own death, was more worried about her than he was anything else. The tables had turned and the spotlight was on her suffering now, which she worked hard to stifle and ignore. Panic lodged in her throat and she couldn’t speak. The sickening urge to lie welled up in her like vomit. She bit her tongue, eyes fluttering closed to avoid looking at him any longer.

“Nothing I can admit to just yet.”

There was a loaded silence before she heard him exhale a small sigh.

“When you’re ready, please tell me.”

His voice was hushed, but determined. Zelda’s heart fluttered painfully in her chest and she gripped his hand tightly. She felt his lips brush her forehead and a small, sorrowful sound escaped her as she burrowed into his arms.

_I will,_ she answered silently, and she knew he understood.


	14. Chapter 14

The next few weeks flew by as Link was accepted for guard training, then completed it without issue. It wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be to join. Despite his accomplishments, he was still missing an eye, which could be seen as a major disadvantage in a duel. Eventually, Captain Bellard managed to convince the others to give him a chance (Link thanked both him and Rensa profusely later on). 

Luckily, the training mostly dealt with basic sword, shield, and spear techniques, two of the three of which he was already quite comfortable with. The spear was a welcome challenge; often, Link was faster than his opponents so a weapon suited for rapid jabbing could surely come in handy for his fighting style. Nowadays, he was hesitant to use heavy melee weapons for obvious reasons.

Today was graduation day. After the ceremony, he was going to be issued his very own armor and spear. Epona had been put up in the guard’s stables while Link camped outside the castle town’s walls, but after the ceremony, he could live in the barracks. He grimaced at the thought of being surrounded by tons of other young men, but as he washed his clothes and body in an isolated corner of the town’s moat, he realized it may not be such a bad idea to integrate into civilization.

The moat’s water was cold on his bare skin so he scrubbed himself as quickly as possible, then turned his attention to the tunic. He scoured a dirty patch for a few minutes, glancing up at the sun with an anxious huff. It was nearing noon and he didn’t want to be late. Clearly, he should have done laundry sooner, but hindsight is 20/20 and he had a solution. Still underwater, he struggled to put on the soaked, but now clean, clothes. After much difficulty, he was dressed, and walked ashore, dripping profusely. He plucked the time stone out of his bag, grimacing as he dripped onto it, and summoned a palm sized clear crystal. It was warm to the touch and a small fire danced within it, roaring to life as Link held it before his face. It surrounded him in flame, but did not burn him, his belongings, or any of the grass. 

Before long, he and his clothes were fully dry. He briefly considered the possible repercussions of using tools of the goddesses for such frivolous purposes as he again pocketed Din’s Fire but decided not to dwell on it. He hardly had the time. He broke down his camp hastily, shoved his things haphazardly into his bag, and hurried towards the castle for the initiation ceremony.

The ceremony itself was boring and dry, just as Link expected. He found himself staring straight ahead at a spot on the wall behind his commander’s head. They were outside in the guard’s keep, and the midday sun shone down strongly upon his platoon and he knew he wasn’t the only one feeling its effects. He could have fallen asleep standing listening to the commander drone on and on about duty, justice, and loyalty. The young man that he could see in his (now very limited) periphery was in danger of nodding off, so Link took it upon himself to gently jab an elbow into the other’s armored middle. He jumped slightly but stopped swaying in place. Link almost laughed but found himself still too bored to do so, but then was abruptly pulled from his mind as the bells of the Temple of Time rang out. He counted the chimes, 1, 2, 3, and his blood ran cold.

The commander stopped reciting his script, eyes wide in shock and fear. He muttered something to the underling at his side as he hurried into the castle accompanied by a few more high ranking individuals, leaving the graduating class standing without instruction. Link understood the panic, though, as he felt it himself. 3 chimes of the bell called the goddesses to escort a soul to the afterlife. Someone important had passed. His heart skipped a beat as he thought of Zelda, then a dark feeling settled in his chest as he realized that he desperately wished the bells chimed for her husband. 

“King Daphnes is dead,” a voice rang out over the confused murmurs of the other soldiers, and at that, there was an uproar. Link extracted himself from the crowd, catching bits and pieces of alarmed outbursts (“what do we do now?” “I won’t follow any orders from a desert king!”) as he left the keep swiftly, mind numb. He thought vaguely he may have heard Rensa call his name, but couldn’t stay amongst all of those anxious bodies any longer. Once he exited the guard’s keep, he rounded a corner and leaned against the wall, isolated at last. His eye slid closed as he struggled to catch his breath, but it was cut short as he heard someone approach. He whipped around to face them, startling an already worried looking Rensa.

“I’m sorry!” Rensa threw his hands in the air, signaling that he came in peace. 

Link’s eye closed again as he heaved a deep sigh and rubbed his forehead with one hand.

“Rensa.”

“Yeah. Sorry I snuck up on you.”

“It’s fine,” Link forced, still calming himself.  
“Do you think it’s true?” Rensa asked after a tense moment, the roar of the now distant crowd still audible.

Link paused, remembering Zelda’s words about her father’s illness and the unmistakable dread that permeated her tone.

"I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter for now. thanks for reading!!


	15. Chapter 15

A few weeks had passed since the breaking news of King Daphnes’s death. Zelda found herself in a familiar position, facing the mirror alone after being toiled over for over an hour. This time, her cheeks weren’t rosy, her lips not painted to be enticing. Instead, her natural features were enhanced, but kept tasteful. Her cheekbones were contoured, a light blush dusting over the apples of her cheeks. The darkened circles that formed under her eyes from weeks without sleep were disguised as smooth, bright skin. She was made to look strong, stable, and most of all, alive. The perfect replacement for her father. She looked into the mirror and a beautiful, but devastatingly sad stranger stared back.

Zelda’s thoughts were a dull hum as she slowly got to her feet and began wandering the familiar paths of the castle aimlessly, dark eyes straight ahead. She eventually found herself descending into the royal crypt; the stairs went deeper and deeper and the chill of the earth made her shiver. She finally reached the bottom and found the catacombs blocked by a heavy unlocked door. With some effort, she pulled it open and stepped through. The air was still and she found it hard to breathe. The white silken gloves on her hands were colored with rust from the heavy iron handle, but she paid no mind as she continued forward. She passed many older monuments as she walked faster and faster, breathing growing more ragged. She abruptly stopped in front of a freshly carved and deposited marble slab, falling to her knees, red stained hands gripping her dark skirt tightly.

_King Daphnes Hyrule IV_

There was more writing underneath his title detailing his deeds and decrees, but she couldn’t bring herself to read it. Instead, she reached out with one hand to touch it, but paused when she saw her dirtied gloves. He would have hated that. Her mouth twitched slightly as she removed her gloves, then reached out again to run a finger over the carving of his name. She exhaled softly, willing her heartbeat to slow.

Her breath caught in her throat as she thought of him. She was just a child when her mother had passed. Zelda hardly remembered her, but she did remember the marked change in her father when it happened. He had withdrawn entirely, and as Zelda grew older, he only pulled back farther; Zelda supposed she reminded him too much of her. 

Zelda held back a small sob as she crawled forward onto the marble slab. It was cold under her hands. She lay on her side, eyes squeezed shut. She imagined the warmth of her father’s arms around her, but it was almost impossible; it had been so long since she’d last felt it. She wrapped her own arms around herself instead, tears finally falling from her long lashes to the freezing white marble underneath her.

She mourned the loss of her father, but more than anything, the loss of any chance at reconciliation. He was old fashioned. He was stubborn. He could be gruff. But the fact that she could never speak to him again, that they could never truly understand each other, weighed on her heart heavily. 

And now… Faroh was no longer just the prince of Hyrule. He was set to be king in just a few hours, and Zelda had no idea what that entailed for her beloved homeland that she was destined to protect. Her eyes still closed, she thought of the crypt itself; she was amongst countless that shared her name and destiny and countless more that helped them serve their purpose.

She and her father were little more than a link in the chain. She would join him here one day.

She lay there alone for another hour before rising and taking small steps out of the catacombs and towards her fate. A handmaid gasped upon seeing her and hurried her back to her room to sweep the dust from her hair and gown. Zelda did not protest as her makeup was touched up, her stained gloves replaced, darkened eyes cast downward. When she was proper again, she was nearly immediately summoned for the coronation ceremony. In the throne room, she was guided to her usual seat, the King’s throne starkly bare as she passed it. Faroh was already seated in the other flanking throne reserved for princes. As she took her seat, she cast him a glance. He was smiling back, looking triumphant. She did not return it, facing forward, small hands folded in her lap.

She hadn’t seen him in months. He had been in the desert. He hadn’t even come back for the King’s funeral, sending a scroll detailing his condolences and explaining he was tied up in a military conflict with a neighboring desert tribe. Zelda had not replied at the time, but she remembered how she had screamed in her room alone later that night, full of grief, rage, and resentment. As queen of the desert, she had known nothing of such a conflict, and as a _wife,_ didn’t she deserve support? But of course, how could she expect anything from Faroh? Link had come that night and she buried her sorrows in his body without offering a word. She knew the topic was a sore one. Of course, how could one complain about their spouse to their lover? Zelda truly didn’t know if it was better to tell him what was on her mind or spare him from the excruciating details. 

She turned her hands over in her lap, examining the tiny stitches in the seams. She heard the familiar voice of the conductor of ceremonies ring throughout the hall and jumped slightly as she realized it was beginning. Her heart tightened painfully in her chest as she stole another glance at Faroh. He was looking straight ahead with that smirk on his face again. Nausea snuck in as the conductor droned on. She just closed her eyes, breathing carefully through her nose until she was jerked back into reality.

“King Faroh of Hyrule,” the announcement rang throughout the hall. Her eyes shot open and she watched a robed man place the crown, her father’s crown, on Faroh’s head. He was knelt in front of the crowd, eyes closed as if in reverence. She hadn’t even noticed him move. Her head spun as he stood, turning to take a seat on her father’s throne. She could have screamed, but instead, sat impassively, hands clenched tightly in her lap. 

“Princess Zelda, come forth,” that familiar voice boomed. She took another deep breath before standing. She approached the ceremony leaders slowly, mind buzzing. Her eye flitted over the crowd momentarily, stopping at Link, who was looking back at her. He was standing among the royal guard, and it seemed his regiment had a nearly front row seat. She was beyond thankful. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible nod, but it immediately grounded her. She kneeled in front of the man holding the crown, dipping her head slightly, golden hair brushing past her cheeks. She waited as more speech was given, but she heard only parts as she focused on leveling her breathing. Finally, she felt her tiara gently removed and replaced by a heavier circlet. 

“Queen Zelda of Hyrule,”

She winced. Though she knew it was coming, it still was a slap in the face. Her new title just served to cement everything that had happened. Her father was gone. It was just her now. She rose and turned to sit on the queen’s throne, which had sat empty for most of her life. It felt wrong. She hesitantly took her seat, trying to mask her deep discomfort with a gentle smile as she faced her people for the first time as queen. She couldn’t help but glance at Link again, who was still watching her. Of course. She felt a small prick of warmth amongst the dread in her chest knowing he was present.

There was a massive feast after the coronation. A huge spit-roasted boar covered nearly ¼ of the gargantuan serving table and there were traditional sides from nearly every region of both Hyrule and the desert but Zelda could hardly find her appetite. Her new crown weighed heavily upon her and a splitting headache had set in hours ago. Instead of food, she asked one of the many servants buzzing about politely for a refill on her mead. Link was no longer here; the feast was only for nobility, and, in her opinion, painfully boring. Dignitaries of all types were attempting to schmooze, especially with the new King and Queen, but she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Luckily, Faroh was the domineering type, and she found it quite easy to sit aside and sip mead while he spoke over whosoever dared to start a conversation.

It was after a few hours of sampling mead and avoiding chit chat that Zelda finally stood to leave and nearly fell over. A strong hand found her waist and held her upright and she clung the person that helped her, thanking him profusely. She looked up at the face of her savior to find Faroh smirking back at her. Letting go of him, she shrank away, but the thick arm held her firmly. She was led out of the dining hall and toward the bedchambers, but as they passed her door, a sinking feeling set in. She tripped slightly, the mead clouding her head, and he stopped to pick her up. Her skirt swept up a breeze that froze her ankles. Her tongue was also frozen; she could say nothing as he carried her the rest of the way to his room. 

Afterwards, she lay awake facing the wall until she heard Faroh’s breathing even out. When she was sure he was asleep, she slipped out from between his silk sheets, threw on a simple nightgown and robe and hurried out the door, pulse rushing in her ears as she closed the door behind her painfully slowly, trying her best not to wake her slumbering husband. When the door was latched, she all but ran down the hallway to her own room, stumbling into the door gracelessly. Her head spun as she lurched back, throwing open her door and shutting it behind her. The lock clicked loudly as she turned its iron key and she was immediately comforted. 

Zelda let out an exhausted sigh as she retrieved a clean washcloth from her vanity. Grimacing, she positioned it between her legs as she climbed onto her own bed. She sat upright in the center of the mattress, one hand positioning the cloth between her legs, the other pinching the bridge of her nose. She swayed gently as she tried to close her eyes, but the spinning became too much and she was forced to open them again. She turned her head slightly and caught a glimpse of the balcony curtains rustling. She then felt sick for a totally separate reason.

She watched as Link came through the gap in the curtains, pale blue eye crinkling at its corner as he smiled at her, which quickly devolved into a worried expression. He was so handsome, she thought. His chiseled jaw, his strong arms, and even (especially) his trademark cowlicked bangs that were so uniquely him. But now he was looking at her and she’d never felt so exposed.

“Get out,” she blurted, sapphire eyes wide, sparkling with tears threatening to overflow. Link had taken a few steps toward her, but at that, froze. He looked hurt.

“Zelda, are you--”

“I said GET OUT!”

He jumped at that, scrambling back toward the balcony. She’d never raised her voice at him, and neither of them were expecting it. Zelda’s voice caught in her throat as she stared back at him, just as frightened.

“I’m sorry, my queen,” he mumbled, breaking eye contact as he started through the curtains.

“No, Link, wait,” she called desperately and she saw him pause. “Please… don’t leave. Just give me a few minutes.”

He did not respond, but went the rest of the way out of the curtain. Zelda rushed to clean up, praying he was still there. When she had finished, she approached the curtains, holding her breath unconsciously. She parted them and found him sitting on the ledge of the balcony, observing the moon quietly. He stood when she came into view, she guessed out of habit. She exhaled softly in relief, shoulders slumping.

“I thought you left,” she whispered, a lump forming in her throat as she spoke. He just shook his head.

“You told me not to,” he said matter-of-factly, tone mellow. 

He was looking down at her with the most tender expression she’d ever seen on a man’s face and she couldn’t bear it any longer as tears welled past her lashes and spilled down her cheeks. She opened her mouth to speak but couldn’t find her voice. Link waited patiently before Zelda gave up, gripping the front of his forest green tunic to pull him down towards her. She kissed him hard, slender fingers wrapped tightly in the fabric of his collar. He responded in kind; butterflies raged inside of her as his lips moved against hers. She heard the buckles of his gauntlets coming undone as he cast them aside and raised a rough palm to her cheek. She leaned into his touch, making a small sound as a shiver ran down her spine. After a moment, he pulled back, leaving both of them panting. Faces inches from each other, she was awestruck. His pale eye was half lidded with lust and a dark blush dusted his cheeks.

“You taste like alcohol,” he stated, staring down at her bruised lips, biting his own.

“I love you,” Zelda breathed, dark eyes sparkling. 

At that, Link froze. He gave a small laugh, brushing his calloused thumb over the soft skin of her face.

“You’re drunk,” he murmured, but she brought up a hand from his shirt and gripped his chin tightly, catching his eye.

“Yes, but I mean it,” she said earnestly, searching his face for a response. He just looked back at her with a serious expression. Dismayed, she began to pull back before he had wrapped his arms around her and buried his face in her hair. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she returned the embrace silently, breathing his scent. He smelled of freshly cut grass, newly baled hay, and soil after the rain. They were refreshing scents that she experienced rarely as a young royal woman. He smelled of freedom and spring.

He pulled back to plant a kiss on her forehead and she let her eyes slide closed, the spinning much more bearable now. 

“I love you,” she repeated quietly.

He pulled back after a moment, taking her left hand in his, interlacing their fingers; they both watched the marks of the triforce glow faintly as they came close to one another. 

“I love you, too,” Link replied, “but you already knew that.”

His voice had taken on a strange, throaty quality, and she looked up at him curiously. A few tears had fallen from his eye and trailed down his jaw, which he quickly tried to wipe away.

Words again failed her as she closed the gap between them, kissing him gently. She felt him melt against her, and she reached up to carefully brush a few more tears away as they fell. After a few moments, they broke apart.

“Please, come back inside,” she implored.

Link just nodded in response, and waited for her to lead him through the curtains. Guiding him by their still linked hands, she led him straight to the bed. He let go of her hand to throw off his boots and belt, but as soon as he lay beside her on the mattress, he pulled her into his arms again. 

Zelda laughed breathily as he buried his face in her neck, kissing her under her ear. One hand found its way into her robe and to a silken clothed breast, running a coarse thumb over the concealed nipple, drawing out a ragged gasp. She tilted her head, exposing more of her neck as Link began a slow trail downward, stopping to nip at her collarbone. A hand snuck under her gown and she gasped again; the calloused hand resumed its attention to her naked flesh and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

Link continued his kisses down to the collar of the nightgown, lingering there before trailing both hands to the hem, then pulling it slowly upward, unveiling her to the cool night air. She shivered, but his warm hands were suddenly on her and her skin was hot underneath them. Another kiss on her sternum, and her body lit on fire as she felt his tongue circle an exposed bud. She tangled both hands in his hair, moaning unabashedly as he sucked gently on one peak, then the other.

“W-wait,” she interrupted, and he stopped immediately, looking up at her questioningly.

“You’re always doing things for me,” she continued. “It’s only fair that I do something for you.”

“This is plenty,” Link said seriously.

“No,” she urged. “Just lay back.”

He looked at her doubtfully, but obeyed. He always did. He lay on his back against the stack of pillows, waiting as she pulled down her nightgown and crawled up next to him. She took a few deep breaths before she placed a slightly shaky hand on his muscular abs. He didn’t move, just watched her with his one bright eye. Her hand trailed down to his thigh, slipping underneath his tunic and up to the button of his pants underneath. Her gaze flickered to his face. He was biting his lower lip in anticipation, brow slightly furrowed.

She felt the blood rush to her face as she unbuttoned his pants. They fell open quite easily with the button undone, Zelda noted, feeling dizzy as she slid her hand inside, holding her breath as she gripped his length carefully. He let out a low groan that served to encourage her as she began moving her hand slowly.

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” he panted. She obliged, strengthening her grip, and his breath caught. Using her other hand, she freed him from his cloth bonds, and he shivered at the exposure. She crawled closer and stopped the movement of her hand, earning a desperate pant in response. Her breath ghosted against him and he bit his lip again, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her right ear. 

At that, she took him into her mouth, the sudden heat making him groan aloud. 

“Oh,” he managed to get out as she swirled her tongue over the tip briefly. Her head dipped lower and lower and his breath came out in shorter and shorter pants; he had one hand tangled in her hair, the other caressing her cheek, watching helplessly as she swallowed nearly his whole length. 

“Zelda, you don’t have to…” He trailed off as she moved faster, her warmth making him forget anything he had to say. His normally soft speaking voice devolved into incoherent mumbling, one eye shut tight.

“Zel, I’m gonna--” he interrupted himself with a sudden gasp. She continued her attention and he finished, crying out at its intensity. He had to nearly push her off when it became too much and they looked at each other in a lustful daze, both panting. Without saying a word, Zelda lay beside him and rested her head on his chest. He slipped an arm around her waist, speechless as well. When he felt he finally found his voice, he looked down at her, but she was asleep in his arms. He let her rest for a few hours before slipping away, tucking her into bed carefully.


	16. Chapter 16

It was winter in Hyrule and King Faroh found it unbearable. Although Zelda could get away with ruling in his place while he traveled to the desert most months of the year, there were points when he wanted her present to work on their… problem. Therefore, she was in the Gerudo kingdom with him, staying in his palace, geographically separated from Hyrule by the aptly named Gerudo mountain range to the south and the southern Tabantha gorge to the east. She felt every inch of that separation, especially when she was alone, which was often. He had many meetings and left her to her own devices most of the time, but considering the quality of his company, she didn’t mind being alone, although it could get painfully boring. Upon her arrival, she was delighted to find that the palace had an extensive library; however, Zelda had only a basic understanding of the Gerudo written language and could hardly keep up with a full novel or scientific account.

Luckily, the Gerudo were not a chaste people. A lovely desert drink made of fermented cacti and a generous amount of fruit was available at her whim, and she did imbibe often. She was buzzed more often than not, which made Faroh’s nighttime visits all the more bearable. His servants and subordinates did their best to avoid her eye, which was remarkably easy due to their impressive height difference. She had taken to wandering through the garden courtyards to keep her mind occupied. 

The palace itself was a fascinating structure. It was massive and sprawling and had been carved into the sandstone hills of the Gerudo Desert. Because it was essentially a manmade cave system, it stayed cool despite the heat outside. Due to its position in the rocky hills, it was impervious to invasions from all sides except the front. Zelda was surprised at the ingenuity of its structure; it was radically different in design from her country’s own castle that was built free standing. She supposed at one point the only way someone could hope to overtake it was from the inside.

One cool desert evening, Zelda was in the courtyard, drink in hand. When she reached the bottom of her glass, she decided to find a servant to ask for a refill. She reentered the palace, looking around the opulently decorated hall, but it was deserted. Servants were harder to find after dark; most went home for the night. Sighing, she wandered further into the palace’s halls.

She was in an unfamiliar hallway when she heard a strange sound. She froze in her tracks, ears perked. Soft noises echoed through the hall and without much hesitation, she followed them. Maybe it was the drink that gave her the courage to do so; her head swam only slightly as she approached an unfamiliar doorway obscured only by sheer teal curtains. The sounds were clearly coming from inside, and now, she realized they were most likely lewd in nature. Face flushing, she stopped in front of it for a moment, placing her empty glass on a sandstone ledge nearby before extending a hand forward and taking hold of the slick fabric. She hesitated just for a beat, sickening anticipation setting in and dispelling as instantly recognizable laughter reached her ear. When she parted the curtains, it took every ounce of control she possessed to remain calm.

Faroh was positioned in the middle of the small room on a large square cushion, nude and smirking. He was flanked by two equally unclothed Gerudo women, expressions neutral. While their mouths were held into even lines, the long haired woman to Faroh’s right was looking at the floor in obvious shame. The other, short-haired woman on Faroh’s left arm had pity in her eyes. That was what made Zelda feel the lowest.

“Is this what you were referring to when you said you were occupied with evening meetings?” Zelda seethed. She held eye contact with him, but he simply shrugged back, the same self pleasing smile on his face as always.

“Sometimes, yes,” Faroh chuckled, gold eyes glinting in the low light. As it so often did when they spoke, his focus shifted down her body, eye tracing her slight curves. That enraged her. She stood up straighter, forcing the billowing fabric she wore to hang loose on her form and crossed her arms over her chest defiantly. 

“Maybe that’s why we haven’t produced an heir, because you… _expend_ yourself on efforts like this,” she gestured vaguely, but the other women didn’t seem to take offense, gaze cast downward. 

“I assure you, my queen. I never expend myself. Enough hysteria. Come,” he extended a hand to her, his other on the waist of his long haired companion.

Had she not been trained in etiquette her whole life, she would have stared at him open mouthed. Never had she been so insulted. Nauseated, Zelda audibly scoffed, shaking her head as she stepped backward out of the room.

“No, Faroh. I’ll be in my chambers. Do not follow me,” she snapped. She wasn’t sure why she’d said that. It wasn’t like he ever tried to comfort her when she was upset. She supposed she was worried about what he would ask for next. She rushed back to her quarters, locking the door behind her. She found a small scroll amongst her belongings specifically for emergency messages. Breath catching in her throat, she wrote carefully and evenly, blowing on the ink to ensure it didn’t smear before rolling it up and stowing it in its small leather sheath. 

She slept with it clutched in her hand, passing it onto the Hyrulean dignitaries first thing in the morning. She breathed easier once she had, knowing it was only a few weeks until she’d return home, far away from this place. But while her decision comforted her, she also wondered if she made a mistake. She’d demanded the appointment of a knight, and she’d been able to give them a name of who she wanted. But he wasn’t a knight. He was a bounty hunter/begrudgingly recruited royal guard member fresh out of the academy with very few official accomplishments to his name.

After she’d delivered the message, she returned to her room and locked the door. She stayed there most of the day, reading and sleeping intermittently until she heard a sharp rap at the door. She jerked from her half asleep state to look towards the source of the noise only to see a small square of paper on the floor, as if it had been deliberately slid under the crack of the door. She simply stared at it for a moment from across the room.

She had no idea what to expect. Her heart leapt to her throat as she thought momentarily that her message had been intercepted, but quickly calmed herself. Even if it had, it wasn’t incriminating. Queens traditionally had an appointed knight, and it was not overly strange for her to choose one of her own. The strangest part would be his relative newness to the guard and general obscurity in his accomplishments, but she hardly cared anymore.

Zelda got to her feet slowly, retrieving the note from the floor cautiously. She didn’t realize she was holding her breath until her head was spinning; she took a few deep breaths before unfolding the small piece of paper. Her eyes widened slightly upon seeing the print. It was an ancient form of Hylian, something that she knew only from her studies of old magic. She was likely the only person in this palace who could remotely translate it. The handwriting was stiff, proper, as though the scribe copied it directly from a book. She set to reading it haltingly, and with each word became more excited.

_There are many of us who know what kind of man our King is. We know you do as well. Expect more messages to come. Burn after reading. _

Zelda’s mind was racing and she could hardly catch her breath. Whoever wrote this note took painstaking detail to ensure the correct message was sent. The ‘we’ and ‘us’ were in their diminutive forms, and the ‘you’ was extremely formal. The word for ‘man’ was a nasty descriptor that could be used, albeit rarely, synonymously with ‘beast.’ She balled up the small paper in her hands and channeled her magic to it; the energy surged from her core like a dam breaking. The flame in her hands licked around her bare fingers and nearly reached the sandstone ceiling but burned nothing but the note between her palms.

She cast aside the ashes with a short, elated laugh, eyes glistening. She returned to her bed and sat on the side, knowing she would be too excited to sleep. She hadn’t used magic in years, and the rush she got from it left her cells tingling with energy. It felt good to exert power again, and to feel as though things were within her grasp was a breath of fresh air. She could bide her time until she returned to Hyrule or until the next note arrived, whichever happened first. Patience was a virtue she was intimately familiar with.


	17. Chapter 17

“The queen’s appointed knight?!” Rensa screeched as Link hushed him frantically, glancing around in alarm. 

Freshly off their shift, they were in the midst of the extremely busy guard’s bar, but Rensa was still loud enough to have a few onlookers.

“It’s not exactly common knowledge yet,” Link hissed.

“Link, that’s insane. What a break. You got that medal and then all of a sudden the queen herself needs you by her side!”  
Rensa sighed dreamily, then paused with a slight frown.  
“I wonder why she chose you over me. I have the better credentials, after all,” he teased.

“I’m sure it was a hard choice,” was all Link could say, but Rensa just waved him off.

“Please, I’m just kidding, I would never want that job. Way too much pressure. I mean, she’s the _queen._ What would the king do to you if something bad happened to her?”

_I’d like to see him try._ Sickening anger struck him like lightning and was gone just as quickly. He changed the subject.

“Her Highness will be back at the castle in around two weeks and I’ll start guarding her then,” Link explained evenly, but was taken aback to hear Rensa guffaw at him good naturedly.

“‘Her Highness?’ You know she’s not here, right? You don’t have to talk like that,” his friend laughed at his expense, but Link just rolled his eye.

“Forgive me for trying to be professional.”

“In all honesty though, you’re among the finest swordsmen I’ve ever seen, but how would she know that? Seriously, how did you go from guarding the drawbridge to this?”

Link gave a one shouldered shrug in response, ordering another ale. They drank until dusk, when they retired to their quarters in the barracks. As an officer, Rensa had his own space, although small. Link had to bunk with three other recruits that he expertly avoided speaking to and typically survived by getting drunk enough to sleep through the night. He slept better knowing it wasn’t for much longer.

By the time he reported to his post the next morning, the news had blown up. Most of his superiors were displeased. Link was just as surprised as any of them to receive the message; Zelda usually preferred to be surreptitious in their affairs, and this was a guarantee that he would be seen with her publicly. More than that, he would accompany her as a traveling companion. He would never be far. All things considered, it was the best he could hope for, he supposed.

Link had managed to avoid most of the fiasco by keeping his head down. He was leaving the keep with his spear and shield to report to his post at the drawbridge and had nearly escaped before he heard someone bark his name.

“Reidel! Get over here!”

He stopped in his tracks, cringing. He recognized the voice. It was his officer, Ser Regis, and he sounded pissed. Link hurried over to Regis, saluting him crisply. Regis just sneered back, but Link just stood impassively, stone faced. The other recruits nearby scattered, desperately trying to avoid being in the crossfire. Link couldn’t blame them. Regis was renowned for his swordplay and his temper.

“The queen’s appointed knight, huh? Let me remind you of something; you’re not a knight!” Regis snarled, curling his lip upward. 

Link said nothing in response, not wanting to escalate the situation, but when Regis growled suddenly, he thought it may not have been the correct reaction. 

“I challenge you to a duel for the privilege,” Ser Regis announced, loudly enough for the uncomfortable crowd around them to hear. Muttering broke out amongst the group and Ser Regis looked quite proud of himself to have drawn such viewership.

Link just stared at him for a beat, blinking once.

“I refuse.”

“Is it because you are afraid you’ll lose to a real Hyrulean knight?” Regis heckled, but Link just looked back at him, unimpressed.

“I have more respect for the queen’s decision than that. Don’t you?”

Ser Regis waffled at that, eyes darting to and fro before he finally protested.

“Of course I respect our queen, that’s why I want to guarantee her safety! And the last remaining Hyrulean leader of our land needs to be protected by more than some… some… Spring-faced usurper!”

As he spoke, the knight opposite of him magnified in intensity. His face started at a blushed pink and at the end of his sentence was a dark beet red. Link just watched quietly, eyebrows raising as he watched flecks of saliva fly from the other man’s mouth. Until now, Link hadn’t been bothered. But having a grown man spitting at him with rage understandably vexed him. He exhaled sharply through his nose unconsciously out of frustration, which Regis picked up on, eyes glinting triumphantly.

“I demand a duel. Sword and shield,” he snarled.

His arrogance shone through the sneer that stretched across his face, and Link couldn’t help but be tempted to put him in his place.

“Accepted.”

His one eye glinted coolly as he returned his superior’s grin with a lopsided smile that held no warmth. He was not particularly worried to face off with his officer; he wondered briefly if that were due to the same hubris that cost his eye, but brushed it off immediately. In order to be respected in his post, it seemed he had to assert himself. A strange, almost territorial rage coursed through him as both he and Ser Regis went to their quarters to retrieve the proper equipment without another word.

Link knew that he alone held a divine right to serve his queen, and he would be damned if anyone stood in his way. In the barracks, he stashed his polearm and tied a guard’s issue broadsword around his waist. He stared straight ahead, eye unfocused, mind quiet. He was alone; most everyone else was at their posts. Once finished securing his weapon, he picked up his round shield, but paused. He looked down at it thoughtfully before setting it aside as well. A round shield was a perfect accompaniment to a spear, but his Hylian shield was far better suited for swordfighting, if for no other reason than the standard issue round shield was made of wood, not steel. He dug it out from underneath a pile of his spare tunics; space was tight and he hadn’t had an opportunity to use it in what felt like eons. He strapped it to his back firmly, letting out a small breath as he stepped out into the hallway without a moment’s hesitation.

Link’s anticipation grew as he headed toward the courtyard where he knew Ser Regis was waiting for him. His training under the knight had been unpleasant to say the least. He was the type to hurl insults as a means of motivation and showed a distinct lack of respect for most of his acquaintances unless they held a position higher than him, and unfortunately, there were few who did. Ser Regis’s swordplay was topic of many a hushed conversation among the guard. There was a good reason he was a knight, after all.   
Briefly, Link wondered if he’d made a grave mistake, but almost instantly brushed the thought away. He would win. He was certain of it.

He passed the doorway to a crowded mess hall and a sudden uproar of raucous laughter startled him from his thoughts. Walking faster, he breathed deeply through his nose in an attempt to slow his racing heart. He would win. He knew he would. He knew because he had to.

Link burst through the door to the courtyard, squinting at the bright sunshine as he continued forward. A training area was just to his left; he supposed that was the most logical location for a duel. He turned towards it and paused upon seeing a group gathered. Inhaling slowly, he approached the training grounds. He could feel his heartbeat so strongly and his head spun just slightly as the crowd turned at his approach, whispering amongst themselves. He would not lose.

The crowd parted and he saw Ser Regis, thick arms crossed impatiently. A broadsword graced his hip as well, but it was made of heavier steel with a decorated hilt. His shield was solid steel as well. Knights’ privileges, Link guessed. 

“You came,” Regis stated, as if surprised.

Link just looked back coolly without a word. It hardly warranted a response. Regis scoffed condescendingly before speaking again.

“Shall we begin?”

Link gave a curt nod as they both drew their swords, crossing them momentarily in a sign of good faith before a friendly duel. It was an ancient Hyrulean tradition, but all that Link truly meant by it was that he was not intending to kill his opponent. Once uncrossed, the duel began. 

Link kept his eye on Regis as they circled each other, neither making the first move. The crowd they’d attracted was deathly silent in anticipation as they simply observed each other. The knight’s footwork was textbook, and his form was even better. Link doubted he’d ever had an opponent this skilled. A shiver ran down his spine at that, but not of fear. It would be a thrill to have a real challenge again. Link was startled as Regis stopped in his tracks and let out a sudden throaty laugh.

“Do you need me to stop moving? Can you see me?”

The crowd produced scattered chuckles as Link set his jaw but said nothing, one pale eye glittering dangerously opposite a dark black patch. He’d stopped when his rival did, waiting for Regis’s next move. The knight’s sword was slack in his hand, and his shield hung on his arm as he smirked at his own joke, reveling in the crowd he’d gathered. His guard was down. He wasn’t taking this seriously at all. White hot anger flared momentarily in Link as he lunged forward, slashing at Regis’s shield, which immediately was back in position to block. Regis’s eyebrows shot up comically fast and it was Link’s turn to smirk. 

Regis, now fueled by surprised embarrassment, swept his blade toward Link’s side but was caught by Link’s parrying sword and deflected upward easily. Regis, surprised again, was open on one side, but as Link made his attack, Regis’s solid shield absorbed the blow. Both untouched, they jumped back from one another, already beginning to sweat. 

“I admit I may have underestimated you, but you have no chance of winning against me,” Regis panted, beads of perspiration clinging to his forehead. 

Again, Link said nothing. As far as it seemed, it was true that they were closely matched. But the sword and shield his opponent carried were solid Hylian steel, more carefully forged than what he held. Link knew they were heavy and the wear already evident on the older man’s face told him what he already knew. He could outlast him.

This time, Regis was the one to engage. He jabbed his blade straight ahead, advancing on Link offensively. Link sidestepped the first strike, but as his aggressor turned with him, he had no choice but to block the incoming flurry. The steel of the knight’s sword clashed against the hard metal of his shield and his teeth ached; he shifted his weight forward suddenly and threw out his shield arm, Ser Regis’s blade bouncing off awkwardly. Link attacked, Regis parried, and the exchange continued until sweat poured from both of their brows and the crowd was producing a dull roar of encouragement on both sides. The older man was slowing significantly, just as Link had predicted.

Regis threw one last jab, but Link’s shield was in position, bashing the sword from his opponent’s hand. It whistled past Link’s ear and sailed a distance away, landing at the feet of the nearby onlookers. Regis just stared, dumbfounded, dominant hand empty. An unceremonious end to a pointless pissing contest. How appropriate.

Without commentary, Link sheathed his sword. He extended a hand to his superior to shake. With a humbled nod, Regis took it and Link felt all his previous bitterness wash away. A gentle calm came over him as he left the training grounds dignity intact. As he saw it, there was now one less person between him and his queen. He knew his destiny would not fail him. He would fulfill it in this life, just as he had countless times before. If the embodiment of evil couldn’t keep him from her, simple politics wouldn’t either. A small, shy smile crept across his face as he thought of her. She couldn’t return soon enough.


	18. Chapter 18

A few regiments of the guard stood lined up, flanking the entrance to the castle. They were arranged to await the arrival of the queen, who, for some undisclosed reason, would be returning from the desert unaccompanied. Link was surprised, of course, but most of all, relieved. He loved nothing more than knowing she was safely away from her husband.

As the queen’s appointed knight, he was outfitted into new, shining armor and positioned at the front of the crowd, ready to begin his duties the second she emerged from the carriage. He felt strangely nervous. It was late afternoon and he’d barely slept the night before. He hardly felt like himself in the fancy royal gear; he wasn’t even allowed to wear green. It was heavy plate, engraved with motifs of the Triforce and rays of Hylia’s light, and it only felt heavier the longer he stood waiting. He understood why Ser Regis’s stamina seemed so low in comparison to his during their duel. This armor was oppressive. Rensa was in the front line of one of the flanks, also fully outfitted. He had to wear a helmet, too, which Link was thankful he could avoid. His periphery was already compromised; the standard issue steel helms rendered him nearly blind.

Link’s ears perked at the sound of approaching hoofbeats, and every guard in the vicinity straightened. His heart leapt as he saw a white and gold carriage round the corner, pulled by two strong white horses. He stood in place, watching with bated breath as it approached. The moment the wheels stopped turning, he rushed to its side, waiting stoically but impatiently as the footman stepped down from his perch. He took small, deliberate steps around the carriage until reaching the door, then paused, as if for dramatic effect. Link was on the verge of tearing his hair out before the door popped open and she stepped out. 

The footman had the privilege of holding her hand as she descended, and Link was horribly jealous. His breath caught in his throat as she came into the light. Her long golden hair was free, cascading down her shoulders in waves. The circlet pinned her hair back from her face; large fire opals decorated the rose gold crown that flickered and danced in the setting sun as she turned towards him. Her eyes glittered with affection and a soft blush colored her cheeks. Her lips were slightly parted and he found himself staring.

He was at first so paralyzed that he forgot to kneel. He dropped swiftly to one knee, placing a hand over his heart.

“My queen,” he exhaled.

She offered her hand and he took it, brushing his lips over her gloved fingers. He released her hand within a few moments, although it agonized him, and stood again. She smiled up at him before speaking.

“Link,” Zelda said softly, “your knighting will take place within the next few days. Then, you shall truly have the title of my appointed knight.”

The way she was looking up at him made him warm. Her dusky eyes roved his face as if drinking in every detail and he was powerless under them.

“It is my honor, your majesty.”

Zelda’s smile widened as she finally continued past him, gaze lingering before she faced forward. He waited a few paces to follow and imagined running his fingers through her silken locks as he trailed close behind her. As part of his position, he accompanied her all the way to her chambers. She paused at the door and looked around, making sure they were alone. When she was sure they were, her gaze snapped to his, eyes sparkling intently.

“I have news, but I can’t share it now. Meet me here around midnight,” she spoke quickly, voice low, then hurried through the door and locked it behind her without another word.

He stood bewildered for a second before finally wandering off. She seemed more excited than he had ever seen her. It wasn’t even 7 o’clock. He left the castle and headed towards the usual tavern. He couldn’t think of a better place to loiter for the next few hours. If he was lucky, Rensa was already there. Still in full gear, he made his way out of the castle, which took much longer than necessary as he was stopped by nearly every guard for a salute. He supposed news traveled fast.

Eventually, he found his way to the bar. As he entered the door, he saw Rensa immediately, perched on a stool, busy cracking jokes to the attractive bartender and ribbing the guard next to him. Such a way with people. He probably didn’t know them until he marched up with an introduction, much like their first meeting. Link couldn’t help but crack a small smile. He approached Rensa and took the empty barstool behind him wordlessly.

Rensa hadn’t seen him coming, and upon turning, a comically sunny grin broke across his face. He then froze, hopping to his feet to give a perfectly executed salute, which Link rolled his eyes at.

“Rensa, stop.”

“I can’t help it. You’re a higher rank than me now. You could have me flogged,” he protested, dropping his hand from his brow to dig an elbow gently into Link’s side, earning a light shove in return. Rensa just laughed as he took his seat again, raising a hand to wave down the barkeep for a couple of ales. A few moments later, two large foaming tankards were set in front of them. 

The woman who delivered them gave Link a small flirtatious smile, idling in front of him for a few moments, but he pretended not to notice, throwing his head back to take a long drink. As soon as she left earshot to tend to another customer, Rensa whirled toward him, mouth agape.

“She was totally into you.”

“Oh,” Link stated, staring at the wall in front of him blandly.

“No, I mean it.”

Link turned to look at him for a moment before speaking again.

“Okay,” was all he could manage.

“What do you mean? She was gorgeous! I swear, ever since you got that eyepatch women have been all over you. Something about the grizzled type, maybe.”  
Rensa leaned towards him, a mischievous grin coloring his features.  
“I mean, even the queen was looking at you like you were a piece of jerky.”

At that, Link straightened in his seat. He turned back to face his tankard, looking down into it stiffly.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on, Link. I KNOW those looks she was giving you. I mean, she’s close to your age, you’re a prime cut of beef, could anyone blame her?”

“She’s a queen. And married,” Link countered, his voice gaining an edge that Rensa didn’t seem to pick up on.

“Details! It’s all politics. Plus, you know the saying: a ring doesn’t block a hole,” Rensa gave a loud bark of laughter, but Link was on his feet in a flash, gripping his friend’s collar with both hands, teeth bared.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” The words came out as a low growl. The sound of his own voice startled Link from his rage and he let go immediately, stepping back to his barstool and taking his seat. He ran a hand over his face, exhaling shortly.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t serious. It was a bad joke, I know,” Rensa coughed as he dug a finger into his collar, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry, Rensa,” Link eventually got out, leaning forward, resting his brow against his hand.

“I’ll drop it.”

Link just nodded thankfully, but he knew he’d have to answer for his overreaction at some point. Rensa was his best friend, and incredibly observant, but this meant he would have to be much more vigilant in his candor with the queen. She had been in an exceptionally good mood today. As much as he loved receiving her affection, he hoped it was a fluke. If Rensa had noticed, someone else surely had as well. He breathed deeply in an attempt to soothe his racing heart. He wasn’t sure what discovery would entail for him. He didn’t particularly care to find out.

“So, when are you due back?”

Rensa leaned against the bar, tone nonchalant once more, albeit slightly raspy. Guilt settled in Link’s chest and he heaved another sigh in an unsuccessful attempt to dislodge it.

“Midnight. I assume she’s resting now after the long journey back from the desert.”

“Midnight?” Rensa gave another short laugh. “Tough break. What do you have to do, stand outside her door or something?”

“Something like that, I’m sure.”

There was a lull as they both took long swigs from their tankards. The dull roar of the other chattering guards filled the awkward silence between them as Rensa raised a hand and signaled for two more. After the bartender plunked another couple of ales on the polished wood in front of them, Rensa looked over at Link with an apologetic glance.

“Sorry, I guess you shouldn’t be drinking any more if you’re going to guard the queen soon, right?”

Link shrugged, tossing a look over his shoulder to see the purple tint of the sky through the slightly wavy glass of the front windows. Night had just fallen.

“I’ve got time.”

They spent the next few hours sitting in the tavern talking about nothing until Rensa’s eyelids began to droop. Link swore he could hear the pops of the other man’s jaw over the clamor of the other bar patrons when he yawned. 

“Rensa, get some sleep. I’m going to my post early.” 

Link got to his feet and finished his glass of water, sufficiently sober. He couldn’t distract himself anymore and Rensa was about to fall off his barstool from exhaustion. Rensa waggled his eyebrows suggestively, leaning his head heavily against his hand.

“Eager, aren’t we?”

He immediately apologized when Link gave him a slightly harder shove than normal.

“That’s an order.”

Rensa raised a brow, smirking in disbelief. He looked almost proud.

“Yes, Ser Link,” he said, tone barely sarcastic.

“No,” Link paused, pointing a finger. “Not yet.”

Rensa laughed at that, clapping Link on the shoulder before they both dropped a handful of rupees on the bar and headed outside. They gave their short farewells before going their separate ways. Link was secretly smug under his ever cool visage as he leisurely walked into the castle through the main gates, receiving and returning a few salutes along the way. My, how times had changed.

He continued on into the castle’s depths until he reached Zelda’s chambers. Knowing it wasn’t yet midnight, he decided to stand watch outside her door, shadow cast long against it. He was standing for just a few moments thinking of nothing before the iron hinges behind him creaked. He peered over his shoulder in surprise; the door was slightly cracked, one wide sapphire eye staring at him.

“It’s not midnight,” she blurted out and he blinked, turning to face her fully.

“Forgive me, my queen,” Link dipped his head in a short bow, trying to instill the habit before she huffed and opened her door wider, ushering him inside. She locked the door behind him, letting out a long anxious breath.

He was surprised to see books strewn out across the room, some magical tomes, and some dictionaries and grammar texts of ancient languages. Link turned to ask her about them but was surprised when she simply slipped her arms around his waist, resting her forehead against his chestplate without a word. His heart fluttered in his chest, one hand resting at the small of her back while the other gently cupped her head. Moments of quiet intimacy like this were rare for the two of them. He milked it for all it was worth.

“I missed you,” Zelda finally said, pulling back, lashes dewy.

“I noticed. Appointed knight?” Link gave her a wry smile, tracing a thumb along her bottom lip.  
“Won’t it be a little obvious?”

Zelda’s gaze flickered down towards the hand on her face and she huffed a small unamused laugh.

“Faroh’s been committing obviousness every time he’s in the desert. If he may have his comforts, so will I.”

He blinked at that, surprised. A small, hopeful, yet wary smile broke across his face. 

“As you wish.”

Gripping her chin gently, he watched as the gap between them closed. Her long lashes fluttered shut and he heard a soft breath catch in her throat as he kissed her. He would die for moments like this. In fact, he supposed he had.

He ached when she pulled away, but the sight of pure excitement sparkling in her eyes almost made up for it.

“I have news. Someone in Gerudo Town sent me a message,” Zelda whispered fervently. “It implied an impending coup. I think whoever’s planning it wants my help.”

She waited for his response, holding her breath, but he just looked at her, mouth twisted in worry.

“How do you know it isn’t a trap?”

She shook her head sagely and Link’s doubt began to melt away.

“It was written in ancient Hylian. Someone worked very hard to send it.”

She paused and caught his eye, her own blazing.

“I know it isn’t,” she stated with finality.

That was enough for him. He nodded firmly, taking her hand in his.

“I’ll help however I can.”

Zelda gave him a soft smile as she rested her free hand on his armor above his heart. He wished desperately he wasn’t wearing it. The plate was torturously thick.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Her gaze fell and her tone was tinged with guilt that didn’t go unnoticed. Link cocked his head slightly, reaching to tilt her chin upward to face him, but her eye stayed low. A pit formed in his stomach as the cogs of his mind began to spin out of control. Had he done something wrong? She finally looked back at him and his fear abated but there was unmistakable sadness marring her features.

“How much cumulative time have you spent correcting my mistakes?” 

Zelda laughed mirthlessly, breaking eye contact once again. Link froze and grabbed her shoulders with a sudden intensity that surprised them both.

“None of this is your fault,” he asserted, voice low. 

Zelda said nothing. Her eyes slipped closed and she just shook her head, elegant brow furrowed. Desperate frustration sparked in him and he gripped her harder, but her eyes shot open and she pulled away reflexively, panic catching her breath. He let go instantly as he was flooded with guilt and shame.

“Zelda, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--”

“If I could bear an heir things wouldn’t be as they are now.” 

Her interjection startled him, not just from its abruptness but also its inaccuracy. His heart wrenched and he gently reached for her again, brushing a few fingers against her arm lightly.

“You have to know that isn’t true.” he urged, voice low.

“I’ve lost three so far,” she muttered, eyes dark with memories.  
“It’s been almost four years. If I could, then he wouldn’t have any reason to…” She trailed off, shaking her head again.

“Faroh is cruel. No actions you’ve taken can change that,” he urged.

The other man’s name burned like acid on his tongue. Thinking of what his hands had done made Link dizzy with rage and his body ached at her pain but politics kept him silently in his place. He’d never felt so useless.

“But, I…” She stopped, covering her face with both hands. “I may have ruined my chances.”

“What do you mean?”

He tried to bring her closer but she stopped him, both hands on his chestplate. He couldn’t get her to meet his eye and dread rose in his throat like bile.

“Please, Zelda, tell me.”

His voice was hushed with dull panic and she let out a soft, audible sigh before she began. 

“It was a few weeks after you left. I thought I was just sick, but…” She paused to let out another short breath. “No official courtship process had started yet. I had no other option.”

As realization dawned on him, Link slowly dropped his hand from her arm. Speechless, he stared down at her, expression blank but eye wide.

“Please understand why it took me so long to tell you. Please realize the last thing I wanted to do was hurt you.”

A heavy silence fell between them and he knew she was awaiting a response but he couldn’t find one. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead; she made a small sound as he lingered for a long moment before pulling back.

“I’ll report back in the morning, your highness. Please try and get some rest.”

He heard her call after him as he went through the door but couldn’t bring himself to stop. At first, he went to his new quarters located just a few halls down, but the stone walls of the castle were suffocating. Mind buzzing, he removed his armor and weapon to don a simple green tunic once more, leaving the castle as quickly as he could. 

With the drawbridge up for the night he couldn’t truly leave civilization, but he walked briskly to the meadow of wildflowers that stretched before Hyrule Castle, trying to catch his breath. Finally he stopped, dizzy, and looked upward. The stars were dim here from the ambient glow of the castle and its town’s many torches. Growing up in the forest had spoiled him. He missed seeing the stars in the Lost Woods at night; they shone bright enough for one to see skullkids darting between the trees and watching from the brush.

Link sat heavily in the soft grass; uneven breaths made him dizzier as he closed his eye, fingers shoved through his cowlicked bangs. He leaned against the palm of his hand, listening to the steady chirps of crickets around him. He shut out everything else and stayed until the sun’s rays rose above the horizon.


End file.
